f - 1 




DO )M 



Book. - U h O & - 
Copyrights ^/£ > 



COPYRIGHT DtPOSir. 






SONGS OF NATURE LOVE AND LIFE 




LITTLE RIVER" 



River! little river! 

Earthly lies may sever, 
Hopes of youth may shattered be, 

Still thou flowest faithfully — 
Never pausing, ever flowing, 

liver and forever — 
River! little river! 

Flowing to the sea. 



SONGS OF NATURE 
LOVE AND LIFE 

By 
JOHN WOOD NORTHUP 




'MY SHNTINEL 



PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS SAN FRANCISCO 



Copyright, 1916 
By Paul Elder & Company 
San Francisco 



T 



(DV^ 




JAN -2 iSt? 



©«A453 HO 

I 



To Those 

Dear Friends Of This 

Mortal Life Who Have Been To 

Me An Inspiration And 

A Blessing 



CONTENTS 

SONGS OF NATURE 



PAOF. 



Nature's Call 3 

California 5 

Monte Cresta 8 

An April Day at Monte Cresta 11 

My Sentinel 13 

The Mystery of the Stars 15 

The Music of the Wind 17 

The Streamlet 20 

Sunrise at Monte Cresta 22 

Sunset at Monte Cresta 24 

Mount Tamalpais 25 

Drifting 29 

The Mountains 31 

Spring 32 

Truck.ee River 34 

Lake Tahoe , . 36 

Little River 37 

SONGS OF LOVE 

Sing Me a Song of Love 41 

Thy Glowing Eyes 43 

Lullaby 45 

Expectancy 46 

Dreaming 47 

My Prayer 48 

Loneliness 49 

If I Could Choose an Hour 50 

From a Car Window 51 



[VI] 

PAGE 

A Night-Dream 53 

The Birth of Love 56 

A Hymn of Praise 57 

A California Legend . 58 

Twilight 73 

Mother-Love 75 

Love's Perfect Whole 76 

Love's Passing 77 

Understanding 79 

If Love Should Die 80 

SONGS OF LIFE 

The Tides of Life 85 

A Sabbath Inspiration 88 

A New Year Perspective 90 

Mv Friend Indeed 92 

Adversity 93 

Ode to Death 95 

My Country 96 

The Call 101 

In the Vale of the Green Shenandoah 103 

The Flag m 

Life's Journey 112 

Thanksgiving Day 114 

My Symphony 116 

New Year's Eve 118 

Night 120 

Weariness 122 

A Christmas Song 123 

Success 124 



[VII] 

PAGE 

Rest 126 

Peace 128 

Sleep 120 

To Wassily Safonoff 131 

A Prayer 133 

Retrospection 134 

A Burial at Sea 136 

Thanksgiving 138 

The Martyrs 139 

Into the Night 142 

Christmas Memories 144 

Questionings 145 

Boyhood Memories 147 

Mexico 149 

Peace 151 

Joaquin Miller 152 

Thanksgiving Day, 1914 155 

The March of the Hours 157 

The Sixth Sense 158 

How I Discovered "Little Rhody!" 159 

Failure 164 



SONGS OF NATURE 




[3l 
NATURE'S CALL 

fleecy cloud from out the west 
Floats in the azure sky; 



A pretty bird from out the nest 
Sings in the tree-top high; 

A zepher from the wooded crest 
Wafts piney odors nigh; 

A brooklet from the mountain's breast 
Runs laughing, bawling by: 

And in that cloud the gentle rain 
That nurtures springtime-flowers; 

And in that song-bird's dulcet strain 
Solace for lonely hours; 

And in that zepher's sighing vein 
Comfort for wearied powers; 

And in that brooklet's limpid train 
Sweet rest 'neath leafy bowers. 

Hearken, O man, unto the call 
Of Nature in her wooing moods — 

The rain, the birds, the brooklet's fall, 
The whispering winds in silent woods- 



U] 

Then shalt thou better understand 
The secret of true happiness — 

That worldly pleasures, howe'er grand, 
Cannot, like Nature, sooth and bless. 



IS) 
CALIFORNIA 

^^^here is glory in thy history, 

M J O California! 

^^^ There's a beauty and a mystery 

In thy golden legends rare. 
There is wealth within thy mountains, 

There is health beneath thy skies, 
There's tinting in thy flowers 

That with the rainbow vies. 

There is grandeur in thy ocean 

O California! 
There's a tonic and a lotion 

In the ozone of its air. 
There's abundance in thy valleys, 

There is peace no discord mars, 
There is balm in thy bright sunshine, 

There is rest beneath thy stars. 

There's a joy in thy completeness, 

O California! 
There's a lusciousness and sweetness 

In thy fruits beyond compare. 
There is thunder in thy cataracts, 

There is healing in thy springs, 
There's a note of inspiration 

In thy song-bird when it sings. 



6] 



There's splendor in thy sunsets, 

O California! 
There's music in thy streamlets 

That banishes all care. 
There's ermine on thy mountain-peaks 

That pierce the ambient dome, 
There's boldness in thy eagle's flights 

That makes those peaks his home. 

There is vastness in thy forests, 

O California! 
There's broadness in thy rivers' breasts 

Where white-winged vessels fare. 
There's richness in thy argosies 

That cross the harbor bar, 
There's marvel in thy commerce 

With Foreign lands afar. 

There's welcome at thy Golden Gate, 

O California! 
There's hospitality innate 

Within its portals fair. 
There's wondrous industry and thrift, 

There's education free, 
There's cherishing of high ideals, 

There's real philanthropy. 



[?] 

There's a greatness in thy destiny, 

O California! 
There's a marching-on to victory 

Beneath thy Golden Bear! 
There's a mighty host advancing 

Thy heritage to share! 
O, be ready to receive them, 

My California! 



[8] 
MONTE CRESTA 

Xknow a mountain that looks down 
On a sleepy little town; 
And on a valley fair and broad — 
The very "Garden of the Lord!" 

my Mountain, I adore thee! 

I would ever more enjoy thee, 
With thy view, surpassing fine, — 
Exhilarating as old wine; 

With thy bay and cypress trees, 

Through which the balmy, scented breeze, 
Straight from Araby the Blest, 

Sings its song of peace and rest: 

Ah! thou bring'st me nearer Heaven! 

Thou art the delicious leaven 
Of a busy, restless life, 

With its turmoil, care and strife! 

1 have seen thee in the sheen 
Of the morning sun; 

I have seen thee capped with clouds 
Ere the day was done. 



t9l 

I have seen the mist 

Change to hue of amethyst 
On thy brow. 

I have seen the snow, 

Ermine white, 
On thy bosom show. 

I have seen the stars 

Shine upon thee through the bars 
Of the Milky Way. 



I have seen the Day 
Start upon its way 
From thy crest. 

I have seen it die 

In thy sunset-sky 
In the west. 

I have seen thee glow, 

When the sun was low, 
With the dazzling gleams 

Of transcendent beams. 

I have seen thee in the hush of night, 
When the moon shed silvery light 



[io] 

Full upon thy verdant breast, — 

When mysterious voices would not let me rest- 
Voices that have called to me, 

Over land and over sea, 
When I was far away; — 

Calling me by night and day: 

Drawing me — as doth the moon 

The swirling tides of ocean on — 
To my mountain, ever blest; 

To my home upon its crest. 

Mountain-home! No more I'd leave thee, 

Till angelic voices call me 
To that Mountain-Home on high, 

Where the flowers never die! 



[II] 

AN APRIL DAY AT MONTE CRESTA 



MORNING 



e 



reen the valley lying there; 

Scent of lilac in the air; 
Birds are singing everywhere: 
Wake! wake! my soul! 



AFTERNOON 



Drowsy humming of the bees 
'Mongst the blossoming apple trees; 
Touch of summer in the breeze: 
Dream! dream! my soul! 



EVENING 



Sunset's glow in all the west; 
Birds swift-winging to the nest; 
Weary Nature going to rest: 
Rest! rest! my soul! 



NIGHT 



Overhead the twilight deep; 
O'er the landscape shadows creep; 
All the poppies gone to sleep: 
Sleep! sleep! my soul! 



[12] 
BENEDICITE 

Far above this mountain-height, 
From their starry windows bright, 
Angel voices call "Good-night! 

Peace! peace to thee, O soul!" they cry. 

Ringing in the moon-lit sky, 
Answer echoes sweet and light — 
"Peace! peace to thee, O soul! 
Good-night! Good-night!" 



[i3i 
MY SENTINEL 

Hor centuries old thou hast stood 
Great monarch of all the green wood! 
And still thou art lord of the hill! 
At dawn the sun gilds all thy branches, 
The moon thy dark outline enhances 
When night falls so slumbrous and still. 

The birds seek the cool of thy shade 

Through the heat that the noontide hath made, 
They sleep in the peace of thy bowers. 

And under thee, pensively lying, 
I watch the glad day slowly dying, 

'Mid the bay-leaves and sweet mountain flowers. 

The sunset glows red in the west; 

Thou foldest each beam to thy breast 
As if thou wouldst hold it for aye; 

But the long shadows stealthily creep 
Over valley and woodland and steep, 

And softly the light fades away. 

The stars gleam afar in the sky; 

The night-birds swoop to thee and cry 
And tell thee the secrets of air; 

The night-winds so gently caress thee, 
And tenderly, lovingly press thee, 

And solemnly whisper a prayer. 



[14] 

And thou echoest the voice oi the wind, 
And I list to thy music and find 

Surcease from all trouble and care; 

And all through the long, weary night, 

In my visions and dreams, sad or bright, 
Thou standest, my sentinel, there! 



[i5l 

THE MYSTERY OF THE STARS 

^^^he stars seem nearer to me to-night 
M J Than they've ever seemed before; 
^^^ There is a mystery in their light 
That fills my soul with awe. 

I think of all the sons of men, 

Of every race and clime, 
They've shone upon with rays serene 

Since the first dawn of Time. 

Yea, e'en before Old Father Time 
His keen scythe first did wield, 

Through long eternities sublime, 
They've held the glistening field. 

They crowned the ladder Jacob saw 

On that far-distant night, 
And shed on him, forevermore, 

Their soft, effulgent light. 

The wanderer in the wilderness, 

Discouraged, lost, forlorn, 
Lifts weary eyes and them doth bless 

Till night fades into morn. 



[i6] 

O, when with problems sore perplexed 

And heavy heart within, 
My soul by countless trials vexed 

And crushed with weight of sin, 

I turn mine eyes to starry skies, 
I scan the gleaming dome — 

Beyond those stars my pathway lies, 
Beyond the stars is home! 



[17;] 

THE MUSIC OF THE WIND 

Histen to the music of the wind!— 
Breathing, whispering, sighing, 
In the tree-tops dying — 
'Tis the murmuring sea 
Softly calling me. 
Listen to the music of the wind! 

Listen to the breathing of the wind! — 

'Tis as if some monster lay 
Sleeping Titan-cares away: 

O'er the mountains, seas, and lands, 
Slow his mighty breast expands. 

Listen to the breathing of the wind! 

Listen to the wailing of the wind! — 

'Tis some soul in pain 
Crying in the rain; 

'Tis the fiendish swell 
From lost souls in Hell. 

Listen to the wailing of the wind! 

Listen to the whispering of the wind! — 

'Tis as if it fain would tell 
Secrets it hath kept so well 

Since this old world first began — 



[18] 

Secrets of primeval man. 

Listen to the whispering of the wind! 

Listen to the moaning of the wind! 

'Tis some sad heart breaking, 
Leave of anguish taking; 

'Tis some spirit grieving 
O'er sorrows, past relieving. 

Listen to the moaning of the wind! 

Listen to the sighing of the wind! — 

'Tis for hopes forever fled; 
'Tis for happiness long dead; 

'Tis for love's long-lost desires 
Swept by passion's flaming fires. 

Listen to the sighing of the wind! 

Listen to the rushing of the wind! — 

'Tis the breakers' roar 
On some distant shore; 

'Tis the thunder's-crash 
When the lightnings flash. 

Listen to the rushing of the wind! 

Listen to the cooing of the wind! — 

'Tis as when the dove 
Calleth to her love; 



[19] 

Or when lovers kiss, 
Lost in realms of bliss. 

Listen to the cooing of the wind! 

Listen to the last sigh of the wind! — 

As at break of day 
Soft it dies away, 

Voices o'er the hill 
Whisper "Peace! Be still!" 

Listen to the last sigh of the wind! 

Listening to the music of the wind, 

Through the restless night, 
Waiting for the light, 

On my couch I lay 
Longing for the day, 

Listening to the music of the wind! 

Listening to the last sigh of the wind, 

Now I close mine eyes — 
Visions from the skies 

Glide with morning's beams 
Through my peaceful dreams. 

O delicious rest! 
Far-off in the west 

They listen to the music of the wind! 



[90[ 

THE STREAMLET 

^^^tiK MUSIC o( the spheres" 
B J Falls Oil our eager ears 

^^^When thy low murmur soundeth near, 
O streamlet dear! 

The whisperings of the breeze 

Sigh through the redwood trees, 
Yet still thy Voices soft We hear, 
streamlet clear! 

Upon thy bank we lie. 

Our eves fixed on the sky, 
Held spellbound by thy siren song, 

streamlet strong! 

The nimble squirrels gray 

Among the tree-tops play, 

That filter sunbeams on thy breast, 

streamlet blest! 

The birds swoop to thv brink 

And cooling nectar drink 

And bathe each feathery-pinion fleet, 

O streamlet sweet ' 



[21] 

The length'ning shadows shift, 
And rocks their heads uplift 

To sentinel thy somber sleep, 
O streamlet deep! 

And as thy limpid tide 

Seeks the vast ocean's side, 

Reflecting true, sky, rock and tree, 
O streamlet free! — 

So run our lives away; 

And faster, day by day, 
Adown Time's stream we onward glide, 

O river wide! 

Reflecting on our souls divine 

Deeds ill or actions fine, 
Until at last we sink, like thee, 

Into Eternity! 



[22] 

SUNRISE AT MONTE CRESTA 

^^^HE RISING SUtl 

M J Sheds golden light 
^^^On fog-sea, 
Lily-white. 

The mountain-tops 

All purple glow; 
The sky-line ruby-tinged; 

The valley hid below. 

An intermingling of strange sounds 

Comes in upon the undertow 
Of this weird ocean, 

Heaving slow. 

As if the weary, waking-world, 

Down there, four hundred fathoms deep, 
Were calling through the fleecy waves 

That roll beneath my feet. 

Ah me! the strifes, the hates, the loves 
Of those poor mortals, toiling there! 

What sufferings, strivings, hopes and fears, 
Down in that world of care! 

I turn from spectral sea and sound, 
And lo! what fairy-land is this, 






1*3 I 

Where every leaf and bud and flower 
Is bending to the sun's first kiss? 

The birds are singing in the trees, 
The quail are calling on the hill, 

The dewdrops glisten on the grass, 
The air the blossom-odors fill. 

Ah, this indeed is Heaven! 

I've crossed that billowy sea: 
Those peaks upon its farther shore, 

Those sounds of toiling life below, 
Are the Old World of Time to me! 

The earthly toil and strifes and hates, 
The sufferings, strivings, fears, 

Lie buried deep beneath that sea — 

This is my World! My Heavenly Rest 



My Blest Eternity 



[2 4 ] 

SUNSET AT MONTE CRESTA 

X climb the height, lured by the sunset's blaze. 
The mountain stands transfigured in its rays. 
The valley's eastern verge is all aglow, 
While 'neath my feet the gathering shadows grow. 
The wooded range, by flaming splendor crowned, 
Looks down on canyons wrapped in gloom profound. 
Far-out upon the bay a white sail ghostly gleams, 
Reflecting on its swelling breast the dying beams. 
Now, Glory's dazzling tints grow ashen in the west, 
And dusky fingers of the night touch e'en the top- 
most crest. 
Along the far-horizon's rim the pale cluods sleep; 
Around the lower hills fog-phantoms slowly creep. 
The twilight fades into advancing night. 
Yet still the western sky retains a ghastly light — 
A memory of transcendent brightness fled — 
Weird shroud for Day, now vanquished, dead. 
The evening winds sigh softly overhead. 
The darkness falls; Stars dot the violet dome; 
And astral gleamings guide me safely home. 



[25] 
MOUNT TAMALPAIS 

^tw^ill you long for that mountain-top high, 
¥ ■ With its Titan-rocks piercing the sky, 
^■MS And its slopes clad in verdure so green? 
Will you cling to those memories tender 
Of that dying day's slow-fading splendor, 
Of that gray ocean's far-flashing sheen ? 

Will you dream of that vision supernal — 
Of a sunset with colors eternal, 

Whose tints kiss the fleece of the cloud? 
Will you sigh for that mystical Elf-land, 
And yearn for a home on its bright strand 

Far away from earth's clamor and crowd? 

Will you dwell on that last glowing picture 
That filled to o'erflowing with rapture 

Our souls as we stood there enchanted — 
When, with one supreme outburst, the Day-God 
Shot forth his red challenge to Night-God — 

Defiance from Glory levanted? 

Will you wish for that night's deepening stillness, 
For the balm of the air and its clearness, 

And the flash of the lighthouse to seaward; 
For the bright, throbbing stars in the heaven, 



[26] 

For the wind's soft caress, with its leaven 
Of peace and refreshing from skyward? 

Will you think of that walk in the night-light, 
With the valleys shut out from our dim sight, 

When only the gleam of their myriad lamps 
Gave sign that poor mortals under our feet 
Pain and sorrow and toil did greet, 

As once did we down in those noisome damps? 

Will you cherish the thoughts of that moment, 
When we three kindred spirits, at-one-ment, 

Sat beneath the dark wings of the soft night 
And listened to rhymes of dead poet's lines? — 
How those cadences sweet to the quick ear declines, 

Holding us spellbound, enthralled with delight! 

Will you think of the on-coming sun 

And with what haste the steep crest we won, 

And gazed expectant toward the distant east; 
Whose horizon, already flecked with light, 
Gave forth rich promise of effulgence bright, 

On which our glowing eyes at length did feast? 

Will you think of that swift downward leap 
From mountain-top to valley deep, 

When through the fleeting hours that Sabbath morn, 



We measured the extremes of depth and heighth, 
All obstacles o'ercome by spirits light, 

That with each cooling draught again seemed born? 

Will you recall that final resting place, 
When, tired and famished, we upon the grace 

Of a kind hostess cast ourselves at last? 
Ah, of what wisdom does the proverb savor! 
For "rest," indeed, "is the sweet sauce of labor. " 

And now we rest indeed, all toil and troubles past. 

Ah, yes! you will long for that grand mountain-height, 
And cling to soft memories of that dying light, 

And dream that sweet dream of a vision supernal, 
And sigh for that mystical, far-distant land, 
And yearn for a home on its beautiful strand, — 

O prototype fair of that Heaven Eternal! 

Ah, yes! you will wish for that night's deepening stillness, 
And oft will you think of that dark walk with gladness, 

And cherish sweet thoughts of that dead poet's lines, 
And think once again of that on-coming sun, 
And of that swift leap 'ere his course was yet run, 

And of that last rest 'mongst the trees and the vines. 

O mountain-top! O dying light! 
O dreaming sweet of vision bright! 



( ) sighing For thai fairy land! 

o yearning * ni thai mystic strand I 
( > w ishing i"i that stilly night I 

o thoughts ol walk in darkened light! 



cherished thoughts of poet's line! 

o beams ol rising sun divine I 
( ) leap into the dsrk unknot n I 

O peaceful place for rest alone I 
Bright vision, seen through sunset's radisnf bars! 

Oi fade not, till we rest beyond the stars! 




1*91 

DRIFTING 

i i.oai on .1 < aim summer ses 

Willi green slopei afai on the Ice! 
And I dream at I floal 
I /i my i my boat) 

On the waves of .1 < aim summer sea. 
Adrift on ;i | ;ilm sumnn i se.i 

With green slopes afai on the leel 

And wit h never ;i | ar<- 

I'm drifting there, 
On the waves ol a calm summei sea. 

AIoih- on ;i ' . 1 1 f m summei sea ! 

I [ark ! the nighi birds < all to me; 

And t he night lights gleam 
Afar on the heam, 

( )n the waves of a i aim summei sea. 

Asleep on ;i ( .dm summer sea 

While the winds Mow COOl and free! 
And in dreams of delight 

I drift through the "ij', M, > 

On the Waves of a < aim summer sea. 

I ,et me drift on ;i < aim summei se;i 
To those green slopes afaf on the Ice! 



(3°] 

Let me drift to those Isles in the West 

Where the weary and homesick find rest! 
Let me drift on a calm summer sea! 



[3i] 
THE MOUNTAINS 

"And the strength 0/ the hills is His also." 

O mountain-peaks with ermine clad! 
O swirling, crystal torrents mad! 
O solitary, silent heights, 
Whose sole companions through the lonely nights 
Are eagles' pinions and the throbbing stars, 
I greet thee! 

thou titanic, adamantine rocks, 

That through long ages have withstood the shocks 
Of subterranean forces, mighty beyond ken 
Of all the puny, helpless sons of men, — 

1 gaze on thee with wide and awe-struck eyes! 
My soul is humbled to the dust, and cries 
Aloud to the divine Creator of it all — 
"Lord, let me know mine end! O, let me fall 

Upon my knees amidst the solemn stillness of these peaks! 
O, let me here await, in peace, the coming of Thy call!" 



SPRING 

now oft have poets written of the Spring! 
This joyous time when Nature casts 
Her mantle full in the lap of Mother Earth — 
This birth-time of the birds and trees and flowers. 

From myriad branches float the songs they sing — 
Winged-messengers of springtime hope and cheer; 
While at my feet the sweet arbutus glances up 
And brings me back to happy days of youth, 

When, through the fragrant fields and leafy woods, a king, 
I strode — monarch of all, it seemed to me, 
So full of rich, strong, vibrant life, I was. 
Ah, then 'twas Spring indeed, for me! 

Old noisy Winter, with his frosty sting, 
Had fled discomforted to northern caves 
Before the south-wind's balmy breath, 
And all the happy sprites of Spring 
Danced in one long, mad carnival of glee. 

And so doth poor humanity forever cling, 
Through days of wintry darkness chill, 
To thoughts and hopes of a returning Spring, 
When all of life's distress and care and toil 
Shall flee eternally away. 



Ittl 

But, O! what of those lives that never ring 
With songs of springtime hope and joy? 
Who struggle on through winters of adversity 
Without one single ray of light to rend the gloom? 

Into whose dreary span of years there comes no living 

thing 
Of love nor bliss nor satisfied desires, — 
Only the icy clutch of hope-deferred forever at the heart, 
The soul benumbed, bewildered with a dumb despair? 

Perhaps there'll come a time when these shall fling, 
Full in the face of earthly winter hoar, 
Their cerements of clay, and stand redeemed, 
With faces shining as the sun! 

And, kissed by those celestial breezes soft, that bring 
To pallid cheeks the light of peace and joy, 
They'll lift their voices and exultant sing: 
"The winter of our troubled life has fled away! 
O glorious clime! God's Country, fair! 
Land of Eternal Spring!" 



fi 



[34] 

TRUCKEE RIVER 

k ivER, swift! whence flowest thou? 
Dost thou know? 
Born 'mid ice and snow, 
Whirling, madly swirling, 
Ever onward hurling — 

Wave on wave — 
Onward to thy grave. 

Seething, hissing, foaming, 

Wayward in thy roaming, 
Heedless of those flowers of lovely hue 

And calm summer-skies of blue 
That greet thee, hurrying past, 

Boisterous to the last — 
Wave on wave — 

Onward to thy grave. 

Winter's icy bands strive with thee in vain: 

Turbulent in shine or rain, 
Leaping like a frightened horse, 

Nothing stays thy mad'ning course — 
Wave on wave — 

Onward to thy grave. 

Knowest thou thy destiny? — 
That ocean's waste-immensity 



[351 

Is not thy final bourn? 

Of all thy power shorn, 
Supine thou'lt sink at last 

In the burning sand 
Of a silent land — 

In Nevada's desert, vast ! 

Soul of mine! whence goest thou? 

Dost thou know 
Better than the river's flow? 

Whirling, swirling in the strife 
Of this fleeting mortal life; 

Heedless in thy mad'ning course; 
Reaping sorrow and remorse; 

Passing all earth's flowers by; 
Never gazing in the sky 

Of God's Great Benignity — 

Soul! what is thy destiny? 

Wilt thou lose thyself at last 
In some desert, wild and vast? 

Sink into the burning sand 
In some far-off Silent Land? 



[36] 
LAKE TAHOE 

^"""N^m bosom ed 'mongst primeval forests vast, 
lT^^*j And girt about by the eternal hills, — 
^^-^^ Whose ermined peaks look down on thee and smile 
When touched with splendor by the dying sun — 
Tahoe, of sapphire and of emerald hues, I greet thee! 

And thou dost answer smile with smile 

Until the last-departing beam hath faded from thy breast: 

And then, the hush of night enfolds thee, — 

Unbroken, save for the even-song the tall pines whisper to 

thee, 
And the murmur of the ripples on thy shore. 
The night skies cover thee, as with protecting wings, 
And from their silent depths thou mirrorest in thy depths 
The gleamings of a radiant host of stars. 

Good-night to thee! And yet again, good-night! 

Into thy unfathomed deeps I'd cast forever all of the 

sorrows, 
Cares and fruitless seekings of this mortal life, 
And turn from thee regenerated, free, with face serene 
As is thy face when morning breaks upon thee, 
And ushers in another summer day as peaceful 
As these fleeting Sabbath hours, — 
Reflecting God's Eternal Peace! 



fi 



[37] 

LITTLE RIVER 

jver! little river! 

Tender memories hover 
Round thy every winding turn. 
Thoughts of youth within me bum 
As I on thy bosom float. 

Thou art ever dear to me, 
River! little river! 
Flowing to the sea. 

River! little river! 

Evening shadows gather 
As the day dies in the west, 

And the young birds seek the nest: 
Then each rock and flower and tree 

Mirrored in thy depths I see, 
River! little river! 

Flowing to the sea. 

River! little river! 

Moonbeams on thee dance and quiver; 
Sunbeams, star-gleams, kiss thee ever; 

Summer breezes soft, caress thee; 
Wintry winds across thee shiver; 

Still thou flowest, changing never, 
River! little river! 

Flowing to the sea. 



[38] 

River! little river! 

Earthly ties may sever, 
Hopes of youth may shattered be, 

Still thou flowest faithfully — 
Never pausing, ever flowing, 

Ever and forever — 
River! little river! 

Flowing to the sea. 

River! little river! 

I am weary of Life's fever — 
Bear — O, bear me to the Giver 

Of all joy and peace and rest! 
Bear me on thy tranquil breast 

To the Islands of the Blest! 
Little river! — Mine forever! — 

Bear me to thy Boundless Sea! 
To thy Vast Infinity! 



SONGS OF LOVE 




[41] 
SING ME A SONG OF LOVE 

ING me a song with love for its theme, — 

Love that's unselfish and pure, 
Love that is boundless and sure — 
Sing me a song of love. 

Sing me a song with love for its theme, — 

Not love that is found in some beautiful dream, 

But every-day love with its laughter and losses, 
Its hopes and its heartaches and crosses — 

Sing me a song of love. 

Sing me a song with love for its theme, — 

Love full of sunshine and joy and thrills, 
The real love, the old love — "old as the hills" — 

Sing me a song of love. 

Sing me a song with love for its theme, — 

The love of a maid with its resplendent gleam, 

As she gives her first kiss to the youth of her choice, 
And knows that she lives but to love and rejoice — 

Sing me a song of love. 

Sing me a song with love for its theme, — 

The love that shines forth from the fond mother's eyes 
When close to her bosom her sleeping babe lies — 

Sing me a song of love. 



Sing me a song with love for its theme, — 

The love that's as broad as humanity's scheme, 

That noblest of all love, encompassing all, 

The love that in Eden held sway, 'ere the Fall — 

Sing me a song of love. 



(431 
THY GLOWING EYES 

^^"v glowing eyes so deep, dear, 
I J Speak of the happy hours 
^^■'^When hand in hand we wandered 
'Mid fields and springtime flowers. 

Thy tender eyes so sweet, dear, 

Tell tales of bygone bliss, 
And memories beset me 

Of one last, lingering kiss. 

Thy sparkling eyes so bright, dear, 

Rouse me to action fine, 
And noble thoughts possess me — 

True counterparts of thine. 

Thy laughing eyes so glad, dear, 

Uplift my heart oppressed, 
Till through its chambers swelling 

Chime anthems of the blest. 

Thy mournful eyes so sad, dear — 

The sorrows of the past 
Shall nevermore remembered be 

When these arms hold thee fast. 



[44] 

O wondrous, wondrous eyes, dear! 

A spell o'er me they cast 
That, strong and sure, shall bind me 

Till Life's dream ends at last! 




[451 
LULLABY 

'leep, my dear one, sleep! 
Angels guard thy rest! 
Lay thy tired head 
Close against my breast — 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

Sorrows all forgot, 
In the dreamland realms 

Bliss shall be thy lot — 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

Gone from thee all care; 
Seraphs' songs for thee are ringing 

In the silent air — 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 

God's own stars gleam on 
To guide thee through the maze of night 

Unto the Perfect Dawn — 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep! 



[;4*1 
EXPECTANCY 

^^^he night-bird wings its flight to realms in air; 
M JSoft o'er the mountains falls the purple haze; 
^^^And, one by one, the glist'ning stars in heaven 

appear, 
And over all the sunset's dying blaze: — 
The summer day, so beautiful, is done! 

Onward I speed into the gathering gloom 

Toward one bright star resplendent in the West — 

Dear star of love, which shines in every room 

Of this enslaved heart that chafes within my breast — 

Patience, O heart! a little longer yet, and Heaven is won! 



[47] 
DREAMING 

X dream of thee when throbbing stars are shining, 
And all the slumb'ring world is hushed in dark 
repose; 
I feel thy yielding arms about my neck entwining, 
While deep within my heart Love's fire resplendent 
glows. 

I dream of thee when Dawn its way is winging 
Out of the shadows on blazing pinions fleet; 

I hear the birds in all the tree-tops singing, 

And feel within my soul thy gentle presence sweet. 

I dream of thee amid the noontide splendor, 
When in heaven's deeps of blue the white clouds float 
and fade; 

I hear thy voice in accents soft and tender; 
I feel upon my brow dear hands caressing laid. 

I dream of thee and life no more is dreary, 

All care and sorrow flee eternally away; 
Then in these arms I'd fold thee close, my dearie, 

And upward sweep with thee to realms of Endless Day! 



[48] 
MY PRAYER 

^^«^he love-light in thine eyes, dear heart, 
fl JDwells ever with me — even in my dreams: 
^■^And though in space and time we're far apart, 
Thy presence thrills me, stills me, holds me with its beams. 

Ojoy! peace! bliss divine! 

All, all, is mine, if in thy faithful love I share — 

Sun of my soul! O, let me call thee mine! 

God bless thee, keep thee, save thee, is my prayer. 



[49] 

LONELINESS 

Oh e art bereft! 
The hours are sad and dreary; 
The wings of Time seem leaden; 
The way is long and weary — 
O heart bereft! O heart bereft! 

O heart bereft! 

Life seems an endless sorrow; 
A somber, joyless day, 

Without one glad tomorrow — 
O heart bereft ! O heart bereft ! 

O heart bereft! 

In loneliness declining, 
Know that behind the clouds 

The sun is ever shining: 
That, for each hour of grief and pain, 

God gives an hour of joy again — 
O heart bereft! O heart bereft! 



[So] 
IF I COULD CHOOSE AN HOUR 

Xf i could choose an hour, dear heart, 
An hour from care and trouble free- 
From all life's worries set apart — 
I'd spend that hour with thee. 

If I could choose an hour, dear heart, 
Full to the brim with joy and glee, 

Afar from men and busy mart, 
I'd spend that hour with thee. 

If I could choose an hour, dear heart, 
When I from earthly bonds might flee, 

Urged on by Love's swift, flaming dart, 
I'd spend that hour with thee. 

If I could choose my final hour — 

The very last in life for me, — 
Helpless, undone, in Death's chill power, 

I'd spend that hour with thee! 



[5i] 
FROM A CAR WINDOW 

^^^he mountains grand 
M J On every hand 
^^^Are mantled quite 
In ermine-white. 

The sage-brush low 

Droops 'neath the snow 
And Winter's breath 

Brings touch of death. 

To leaden skies 

The lone bird cries 
And dreary desolation reigns 

In all the Desert's treeless plains. 

But in my heart 

Dwell thoughts apart 
From this chill scene — 

Sweet thoughts serene. 

They hurry back 

Along the track 
The iron-horse, 

In madd'ning course, 



[5*1 

Hath carried me, 

Far, far from thee, 
And now thy presence sweet 

Fills me with joy complete. 

And in this gloom 

Rich flowers bloom; 
Hope, Love, and Peace are mine,- 

Foretaste of Heaven divine! 



1 53] 
A NIGHT-DREAM 

^^^he brooding spirit of the Night 
M J Holds me as one enthralled! 
^^^ Her sable mantle, star-bedight, 

Hath quenched the last, faint, flickering gleams 
Of sunset's dying beams. 

The lowing kine no longer call; 

The birds are sleeping in the nests; 
Beneath a subtle, slumbrous pall, 

All Nature rests. 

Onward I plunge into the deep'ning night: 
To the four corners of the silent earth — 

East, West, North, South — I look in vain for light; 
For just one solitary human ray 

To guide my lonely way. 

I send my voice into the inky void: 

I listen for one single human word 
To cheer my tired soul, 

But no reply is heard. 

Upward I lift my face unto God's skies: 
Ah, yes! His lamps are burning there — 

Those gleaming, countless, starry-eyes — 
But O, so cold, so far-away they seem, 

As in a dream ! 



(54l 

I send into those astral deeps 

A long, wild cry to Him who keeps 

The worlds within the hollow of His hand, 
And e'en the sparrow's fall doth see: 

"O Abba Father! answer me! 
Guide Thou my stumbling feet! 

I cannot longer stand!" 

And lo! His wondrous voice replies 

Out of the ambient skies: 
But O, so cold, so far-away it seems, 

As in a dream! 

I raise my heavy hands to Him in sore distrust, 
Then sink bewildered, fainting in the dust: 

I grovel in that stygian darkness there; 
I wrestle with my stricken soul in prayer. 

"O Love! Dear Love! canst hear my voice? 

Is this the end?" I cry — 
"O, haste thee on the wings of Night! 

O, stay not for the dawning-light! 
Outstretch to me thy tender arms! 

Else, must I die!" 



The song-birds sweet, are waking; 
Her soft hand mine is taking; 



[55l 

The music of her voice is in my ear; 

Her glowing eyes upon me shine; 
Her tender arms about me twine; 

Her throbbing heart beats close to mine- 
The morning breaks! 

All nature wakes! ! 
My Love is here! ! ! 



[56] 
THE BIRTH OF LOVE 

Hove comes, as comes the blossom sweet — 
With tender care the seed is sown; 
We watch, each morning, for the tiny shoot; 
And lo! at last, we've come into our own. 

The rain falls on the parched earth, 

The sun's warm splendor follows swift, 
And flowers come forth, kissed by the rain and sun; 

And over all the fleecy cloud doth drift. 

Thy gentle presence, like the rain, falls on my parched 
heart, 
And follows swift the sunshine of thy smile; 
And Love, the sweetest flower in earth or Heaven, is born; 
And soft, entrancing music drifts o'er my soul the 
while! 




(57] 
A HYMN OF PRAISE 

'ing, O my soul, thy hymn of praise! 
Shout forth to highest heaven thy joy; 
Join thou the song-birds' morning lays; 
Sing, O my soul! Angelic notes employ. 

Sing, O my heart, the sweet refrain of love! 
Break every evil bond that binds thee to the Past; 
Catch thou grand harmonies from the choirs above; 
Sing, O my heart! for love now holds thee fast. 

Sing, O my life, a long, triumphant song! 
Crush to the earth each mean, unworthy thought; 
Rise in thy power and smite the hosts of Wrong; 
Sing, O my life! for love thy soul hath bought. 

Rise then, my soul! My heart! My life! 

Send ringing down the years kind words and actions fine; 

Gird on thine armor, enter bold the strife; 

Sing, with thy dying breath, "Love's Heaven is mine!" 




[*8] 
A CALIFORNIA LEGEND 



beautiful legend is told 
By the Klamaths, once war-like and bold, 
Of Ahwahnee, the fairest of maids, 
And Owayno, the God of the Sun, 
Who many a fair maid had won 

As at evening she strolled in the glades. 

The swift, dazzling gleam of his smile 
The eyes of each maid did beguile; 

But swifter the clasp of his arm 
As he folded them close to his breast 
And swept to his caves in the west, 

And the sunset's ineffable calm. 

But of real love he never had heard: 
His heart was as free as the bird 

That wakes at the first touch of dawn 
And sees on the blue mountain-height 
The torch of the Sun-God alight, 

And greets it with rapturous song. 

Now, Ahwahnee was loved by a youth, — 
The son of the great chief Karsooth — 
Who among all the Klamaths was known 



[59l 

As the mightiest hunter and brave 
That ever the Great Spirit gave 

Their proud tribe — the noble Kahsoon. 

And the love of Kahsoon was returned 
By the gentle Ahwahnee, who learned 

From her master and lord many things: 
How the bear lay asleep all the winter; 
How the deer and the panther did enter 

The snares that were set by the springs. 

And how the industrious beaver, 
That cunning and marvelous weaver 

Of sticks and of stones, built his wigwam 
In the depths of the swift-flowing river, 
With its rush and its gleam and its quiver 

Through the forest in sunshine and storm. 

And of the great grizzly bear 

That Kahsoon bravely tracked to his lair. 

And she saw the deep scars at his throat 
That the monster had made ere he died 
With the knife of Kahsoon in his side, — 

Who swooned with the pain, as he smote. 

And then of the terrible battle, 

When the Modocs, with war-whoop and rattle 



[6a] 

Of war-drum, swooped down on the slumbering village. 
And how, after long hours of fighting, 
The maurauders saw victory alighting, 

And began their red plunder and pillage. 

How the rising sun, scorching and red, 
Looked down on the field of the dead 

Where the Klamaths had made their last stand: 
How the wail of the women, grief-ridden, 
Who in the dark forest lay hidden, 

Was borne through the desolate land. 

How, afar in the heart of the mountains, 

Where the limpid streams gush forth like fountains, 

Kahsoon and his band of young warriors 
Were hunting the panther and bear, 
When clear, through the still morning air, 

Rose the yells of the fiendish destroyers. 

How, on his wild steed, at the sound, 
He swept, like the wind, o'er the ground, 

With his followers close at his back — 
On! On! with the speed of the wind, 
Till the trail of the spoilers they find, 

And madly they follow the track. 

On! On! Through the heat of the noon, 
Till the westering sun reached the zone 



[6i] 

Of the night, and the bright California moon 
Shed its beams o'er the Modocs' wide path, 
They swept in their fierce, silent wrath, 

And prayed that their vengeance come soon. 

At last the encampment-fires gleam 
By the side of a slow-running stream, 

And Kahsoon and his warriors alight: 
To the spot where the Modocs lie sleeping, 
All unconscious of foes on them creeping, 

They stealthily glide through the night. 

The tomahawks' swift, silent fall 
Cleave the heads of the sentinels, all — 

No time for the death-song is given; 
But the death-rattle sounds in the throat, 
And the howls of the dogs rise and float, 

And with war-whoops the still air is riven. 

Now, the rush of the battle is on ! 
Though outnumbered an hundred to one 

The Klamaths fall quick on the foe: 
The play of their lances, swift-flashing, 
The whir of their arrows, swift-crashing, 

Cause the Modocs' red life-blood to flow. 

And Kahsoon, in the thick of the fight, 
Hews down to the left and the right 



[62] 

The fiends that encircle him round; 

Until all about him arc lying 

Great heaps of the dead and the dying. 

While torrents oi blood drench the ground. 

Ami now, straight before him there stands. 
With knife and with lance in his hands, 
OneCO, the great Modoc chief; 

And Kahsoon, in a voice tull of scorn, 

Calls him squaw-man, and cow.ird, and t'.iwn, 
And liar, and boaster, and thief. 

And OneCO returns gibe tor gibe — 
Tells Kahsoon that he never will live 

To see the first gleam of the dawn; 
And then hand to hand they engage. 
And fierce is the struggle they wage. 

While Klamath and Modoc look on. 

Till Kahsoon, with a masterful thrust, 
Lays Oneco, the great, in the dust, 

And severs the scalp from his head; 
While the Modocs in terror are Hying, 
At sight of their chieftain there, dying — 

Flying back to their great Lava Bed. 



63l 
ii. 



Ahwahncc these tales oft had heard 
From the lips of her master and lord, — 

These tales, and a great many more; 
And she listened with eyes brightly beaming, 
The love in her heart eaeh day seeming 

Far stronger than each day before. 

And they sat in the hush of the evening, 
When the notes of the whippoorwill blending 

With the cricket's sweet, low plaintive song, 
Made music that banished all sadness, 
And filled all the night with its gladness, 

While the tide of their love swept along. 

And they talked of the day, yet to come, 
When his wigwam should be, too, her home, 

And she kissed him, and whispered her love; 
And she said: "I will follow, Kahsoon, 
As the green sea doth follow the moon — 

Be as true as the bright stars above! 

"With bright feathers thy war-lance shall glow; 
I will make for thee arrows and bow, 

And with skill weave thy moccasin beads; 
And when the sun sinks in the west 



[6 4 ] 

I will make a soft bed for thy rest 
Out of pine boughs and sweet tule-reeds. 

"For thee all the burdens will bear; 
From the deer thou dost kill will prepare 

The choicest of savory food; 
And when the dread fever hath laid 
Its hand on Kahsoon's aching head, 

I will steep him herbs that are good." 

And so spake Ahwahnee the fair, 
To her master and lord sitting there 

In the hush of the evening so still; 
And on his broad breast soft she lay, 
And he watched till the fingers of Day 

Made their imprint on woodland and hill. 

in. 

Now the legend doth say, you have heard, 
That the Sun-God knew never a word 

Of love — that bewildering thing! 
Notwithstanding the maids he had won, 
Owayno, the God of the Sun, 

Was untouched by its maddening sting, 

Until one balmy evening in May, 
When in ambush he stealthily lay 



1*5] 

In the glade where the maidens did walk, 
He .saw, in the gleam of his smile, 
Ahwahnee stroll down the green aisle, 

And softly behind her did stalk. 

And he flashes his bright golden beams 
'Cross the path of the maiden, who dreams, 

As she walks, of the noble Kahsoon; 
Then, as she turns, her slow steps to retrace, 
The Sun-God sends full in her face 

Those gleams that all maidens have won. 

But not so with Ahwahnee the fair, 
Who is standing, so beautiful, there; 

For the warm, glinting rays in her eyes 
Doth neither bewitch nor beguile, 
As she waits, all so pensive, the while, 

And Owayno looks down in surprise. 

And whence comes this pang of unrest 
As he sweeps to his caves in the west 

And the sunset's ineffable calm? 
With chagrin he hath found that his dart 
Hath failed to reach Ahwahnee's heart, 

While his own hath been pierced by her charm 



[66] 

IV. 

And thus the great Owayno heard 
Of love — O, the marvelous word! — 

And he felt all the pangs that it brings — 
The longings, the sighings, the moanings, 
The miseries, happiness, groanings, 

Of poor mortals who suffer its stings! 

And eve after eve in the glade 
The Sun-God in green ambush laid 

For Ahwahnee, who walked in his beams; 
But try as he did every wile, 
This maiden he failed to beguile, 

For the noble Kahsoon filled her dreams. 

And so, with the sting and the smart 
Of love unrequited, his heart 

Grew heavy with anguish and pain; 
For his passion was vivid and real — 
Such as only the great gods can feel — 

But he longed for Ahwahnee in vain. 

For the maid to Kahsoon now was wed; 
And when Owayno heard it, he said: 

"My curse on the mortals of Earth! 
In winter no more will I shine! 



[6 7 ] 

In summer, the maize and the vine 
I will kill at the moment of birth!" 

So in winter he sulked in his cave 

And no warmth to the Klamaths he gave, 

And thousands died under his curse: 
But the fate that remained for the rest, 
When the Sun-God came back from the West, 

Was even a thousand times worse. 

For when, in the first days of Spring, 
The maize, vines, and every green thing 

Gave promise of plenteous store, 
Owayno's fierce, blistering rays 
Beat down on them through the red haze, 

And they withered and died, evermore! 

Then Famine stalked through all the land, 
And fair California's strand 

Was piled high with the corpses of men; 
And Kahsoon laid his head on the breast 
Of Ahwahnee and sank to his rest, 

As he blessed her again and again. 

And then came the terrible rain, 
As Owayno now sent back again 
The waters he's stored in the sky; 



[68] 

And higher and higher the flood 
Rose, until the whole land was submerged, 
Except one sharp mountain-peak high. 

And there on that peak, all alone, 
Ahwahnee, her face turned to stone, 

Sat watching the black waters roll; 
And she sent up an agonized cry 
That reached to the depths of the sky: 

"Kahsoon! O, receive thou my soul!" 

Far above, in the heart of a cloud, 
Heard the Sun-God the cry of his love, 

And straight through the mist and the rain 
He flashed his bright beams on the rock 
To which Ahwahnee clung, 'midst the shock 

Of the turbulent waters, in vain: 

For the swirl of the ravaging flood 
Swept over the spot where she stood 

And she sank 'neath the surge of the wave; 
But she rose in a moment, and soon 
Felt the rays of the God of the Sun, 

And heard his far-call — "I will save!" 

Then on each drop that held her entombed 
He focused the blaze of his sun, 



[6 9 ] 

And, swifter than lightning's sharp glare, 
Drew her up to his bright home above, 
And cried: "Ahwahnee! My light and my love!" 

And kissed her, and stroked her soft hair. 



And she lay for a moment at rest 

'Midst the life-giving beams on his breast, 

Then uplifted her beautiful head; 
But he pressed her again to his heart, 
And whispered "No more shall we part!" 

And Ahwahnee made answer, and said: 

"Great Sun-God, I owe thee my life; 
And, for this, will become now thy wife; 

But I cannot bring to thee the boon 
Of a life and a heart full of love, 
For true as the bright stars above, 

I remain to my husband, Kahsoon! 

"I know never more I shall see 
His face, that is dearer to me 

Than all else in that old world or this, 
But I'm sure in the Great Spirit's Land, — 
Perchance on some beautiful strand — 

My Kahsoon walks in infinite bliss!" 



t7o] 

The anguish, the pain, the surprise, 
That shone in Owayno's clear eyes, 

Moved the gentle Ahwahnee to tears, 
And, prostrate, she cried: "Take my life! 

Take my blood! 
O thou noble Sun-God! 

But leave me the love of past years!" 

VI. 

And Owayno, the Sun-God, looked down 
On that fair face and quivering form, 

And there came to his tear-bedimmed eyes 
A look of compassion, so tender and real, 
Such as only the great gods can feel, 

And as soft as his own sunset skies. 

And he lifted her up, with the grace of a god, 

And cried: "Kahsoon shall again be thy husband and lord! 

O Ahwahnee! My love and my lost! 
Ah! It never was meant that the great Gods should win 
The love of the children of men! 

O Ahwahnee! My love and my lost! 

"And the flood on the earth shall subside 
When my beams its deep waters hath dried, 
And thy race shall inherit the land; 



[7i] 

And fairer than ever before 
That old world shall be, evermore — 
Only blessings shall fall from my hand. 

' 'And, for thy sake, I never again 
Will withhold from thy people the rain, 
Nor kill the young maize, nor the vine; 
And for thy sake, no more in the winter 
The Frost-God their wigwams will enter: 
And this promise I give thee and thine." 

VII. 

Then, straight to the beautiful strand 
Of the Great Spirit's fair, happy land, 

He shot forth the beams of his sun, 
And they caught up Kahsoon, walking there, 
And swept back with him, through the clear air, 

To Owayno's bright, far-distant home. 

And there, on the fleece of a cloud, 
Knelt Ahwahnee, her lovely face bowed 

In the passionate longing of prayer; 
And then through the tremulous gleams 
Of the Sun-God's rich, translucent beams, 

She saw her Kahsoon standing there. 

And she fell in his arms with a cry 

That rang e'en to the Great Spirit's sky — 



[7^1 

"Kahsoon! O my husband! My lord!" 
For a moment Owayno looked on, 
Then swept from their sight and was gone. 

And, weeping, they cried — "Come back! 
O thou noble Sun-God!" 

And out of the silence and dazzling flame 

Of transcendent splendor and glory, there came 

A wild echo from far-heights above: 
"It never was meant that the great gods should win 
The love of the children of men! 

OAhwahnee! My lost and my love!" 



And the Klamaths believe the sweet legend, 
And when the rain falls on the parched land, 

Bringing promise of harvest and cheer, 
They say: " 'Tis Ahwahnee, returning 
To Earth with her love and her yearning 

For home and her people, so dear!" 

And when, the blessed rain over, 

The sun rends the dark clouds that cover 

His face in the afternoon-sky, 
And they see his beams drawing up water, 
They cry: " 'Tis Ahwahnee, our daughter, 

Returning to Kahsoon on High!" 



[73l 
TWILIGHT 

^^^^here is an hour, 

M J 'Twixt daylight and the dark, 

^^^When tender recollections come to me,— 

Sweet memories that overpower 
All else of place or time or sense. 

Soft then the touch of her dear hands, 
Our tears, commingling, fall again; 

Her soul speaks to my soul; her heart 
Is bound to mine with tender bands 

Of love and joy and everlasting trust. 

The deepest depths are stirred again; 

Surpassing fair all life unto me seems; 
The Present full of noble thoughts and aims; 

The Future holds no haunting shadows then; 
Gone all the sorrow, passion, pain. 

O twilight hour! I long for thee 

That I may live again those moments dear; 
O, haste thee on Time's leaden wings 

And bring my lost love back to me! 

And when Life's twilight falls on me, 
And death-damps dim my glazing eyes, 



(74l 

And stalking through the gloom I see the specters of 
Eternity, 
O, let not memories then be mine, 
But blessed, sweet reality! 

Her warm breath on my icy cheek, 

Her dear lips pressed against mine own, 

Her sobbing farewells in my tailing ear, 
Her soft hand clasping my cold hand, 

I'll gently pass into the Silent Land! 



[751 
MOTHER-LOVE 

^■t^e may well say that love is the lever 
1 m ^ nat movetn this old world forever. 
VJIx Yet, love hath so many gradations, 

So many poor adulterations, 
That pure love's exceedingly rare. 

There's the love that is worldly and sordid, 

Where only one's self is accorded 
The right to the best on Life's table, 

And, like unto the fox in the fable, 
Wants also the other's poor share. 

And there's love like the dog's for his master, 
Whose footsteps he'll follow the faster 

When he knows there's a bone to be given; 
And when he the choice morsel hath riven, 

Will lie down content with his fare. 

But there's one love that's ever unfailing, 

Over all of Life's trials prevailing; — 
I'm sure that the Lord looked on it and smiled, 

When he gave to the mother her love for her child. 



X 



l7<>1 

i OVE'S PERFECT WHO] E 

know .i wnni.Hi wiih such ten dei eyes, 

rii.ii just i" :'i > into their deeps 
Is like -i glimpse ol Pai adise. 



I know i woman with such wondrous lips, 
I'h. u just to touch them \\ ith mine own 
Tin ill', to i !>*■ \ ei \ finget tips* 

l kiu'w .1 woman with •> smile so sweet) 
I'h. it just (" bask u\ us bright beams 
Fills nu- with i>>\ complete! 

I kiu'w .i woman with •> heart so true) 
That it l o> c t .in Imk enter there 

I ove dun is boi n .un \\ 



1 know .i woman with .i soul so pure, 
No earthly dross can tarnish it, 

\i< W.M k|l\ W ileS HI. IN' 111! Q, 

\iui in (in-, woman's tender eyes, 
l hi sunk- so sweet, hei wondrous lips, 

I Km- heart so true and hei pure soul, 
I find l ove*s pei feet \\ hole. 



77 



I.OVI/S PASSING 
ove < .inic to niy humble dwelling) 

( Jcnl ly i apped upon I lie dooi i 

( razed I ai her from my window 
I'.iiki face ne'er seen beroi el 



H 



" I .el me in I" '.I"' cried) entreating) 
" I have i ome to bud with I heel 

Still l lingered at the i asement , 
Till l < ould no longer see. 

11 Let ii"' in I The nighl '■• advani mg! 
I am wc.ny, hungry) < old I 

Then the door I (|ui< kly opened, 

Took her in my ;u ms so hold, 

Set her down before I he lire, 

Placed before hei food and wine; 
All the room seemed now transfigured 
Wiih < elestial light divine. 

Then I knelt beside her '.ofily, 

I )kw her < Lose unto my breast , 
l<Vli her heart throbs, heard hei Bighings, 

Wall lied her genl ly sink to re-.i. 



[78] 

Then my eyelids, too, grew heavy; 

Fainter now the firelight's glow; 
And without, the wind's low meaning, 

And the swirling, blinding snow. 

Into dream-realms now I'm drifting 
Bearing love upon my heart; 

O the thought, so full of rapture, 
Never more from her to part! 



Light of dawn hursts through the window; 

Sunbeams fall upon her head; 
Waking now, I gaze upon her — 

God have mercy ! Love is dead ! ! 



(79l 
UNDERSTANDING 

Oerhaps there'll come a time, 
It may be on some fair far-distant strand 
Beyond the portals of Eternal Eight, 
When you and I will meet, and understand 
What now in this old world seems hidden from our sight. 

Ah, then we'll understand 

The why and wherefore of that sweet delight 
That came to us, as comes the chariot of the dawn 

Out of the mists and shadows of the night 
By steeds of flaming splendor drawn, 

And then was turned to dust and ashes in our grasp. 

Ah, then we'll understand 

The meaning of that parting clasp, — 
How useless were the tears we shed 

Over dear hours forever fled, 
Over fond hopes now shattered — dead! 

Yes, some day from our eyes the scales will fall, 

And we shall know the meaning of it all — 
Some day we'll understand. 



[So] 
IF LOVE SHOULD DIE 

XF love should die, 
What would become of this old world! 
Who then would heed the helpless infant's cry, 
Weak, starving at a stoic-mother's breast? 
If love should die. 

If love should die, 

Where then the hopes and longings of young lives? — 
The sweet caress, the kiss, the blissful sigh, 

The dear, delicious touch of lovers' hands? — 
If love should die. 

If love should die, 

Who then would heavy burdens bear 
Of those who crushed and bleeding lie ? — 

No word of cheer, no pitying eye, 
If love should die. 

If love should die, 

Who then would heed the springtime flowers? 
Or song-birds singing in the sky? 

Or catch the incense on the summer breeze? 
If love should die. 

If love should die, 

Where then the power of moon or sun 



[8i] 

Or glist'ning, starry worlds on high, 

To cheer the weary wanderer's way? 
If love should die. 

Jf love should die, 

Who then would watch the fleeting breath 
Or listen to the last good-bye 

Of mortal on the brink of Death? 
If love should die. 

If love should die — 

Ah, then all Nature would be dead, 
And earthly hopes and happiness would fly 

Into realms of Chaos and Despair! 
ff love should die. 

If love should die? — 

Take courage, doubting heart; 
God is forever nigh. 

His sun and moon and stars shine on; 
All nature radiates His smile: 

His love humanity forever thrills, 
And ever-faithful, everlasting is: 

Strong, sure, eternal as the hills, 
Love shall not, cannot die! 



SONGS OF LIFE 



l«5] 
THE TIDES OF LIFE 

lood-tide of J Iope! Flood-tide! 
When all of Youth's bright dreams 
Arc surely to come true in after years. 
Flood-tide of 1 [ope! Flood-tide! 



fi 



Flood-tide of Faith! Flood-tide! 
Faith in his God, his Country and his fellow-men; 
Faith in himself 'gainst all the world. 
Flood-tide of Faith! Mood-tide! 

Flood-tide of Love ! Flood-tide ! 
When all of bliss that earth can hold — 
That ever was or ever can be — all is his. 
Flood-tide of Love! Flood-tide! 

Flood-tide of Wealth! Flood-tide! 
His Midas-touch turns all to gold, 
And Mammon bows obsequious to his will. 
Flood-tide of Wealth ! Flood-tide ! 

Flood-tide of Power! Flood-tide! 
When to his purposes and ends 
He bends the very elements themselves. 
Flood-tide of Power! Flood-tide! 



so 



Flood-ride of Fame! Flood-tide! 

His name is on the Lips of all the world, 

And on Ambition's di.vy height he stands alone 

Flood-tide of Fame! Flood-tide! 



Ebb-tide of \\ow\ Ebb-tide! 

Youth's roseate dreams begin to vanish now; 

And Courage, gasping our its lite, dies at the helm, 

And Fear, ascendant, rides the billows of an angry sea. 

Ebb-tide o( Hon-! Ebb-tide! 
Ebb-tide of Faith! Ebb-tide! 

Mistorrune sears his soul; 

And doubts of God, of Country, ot his fellow-men, 
And o\ himself lie heavy on his breaking heart. 
Ebb-ride of Faith ! Ebb-tide. 

Ebb-tide of 1 .ov b ! Ebb-tide ! 

He Stands beside the open grave, 
And, one by one, gives back to Mother Earth 
His loved-ones, all, and to him lost for aye. 
Ebb-tide of I .ov e ! Ebb-tide ! 

Ebb-tide of Wealth d\\,\ Fame and Power! Ebb-tide! 

In penury and want he walks alone, alone! 

The mem'ries of the past are bur as daggers to him now. 

Ebb-tide of Wealth and Fame and Power! Ebb-tide! 



1 87 1 

I'.hl) ride of Limn and Time and Sense! Ebb tide! 

Mc gropes in darkness through the weary hour',, 

An Infant once again strange law of life! 

Ebb tide of Liohi and Time and Sense! Ebb tide! 



Flood-tide of Darknkss and of Death! Mood tide! 
'I In-, tired goul is dropping ofl to Bleep; 

And earthly I [OPE and FAITH and LOVE 

Atid earthly FAME and POWER, are all forgotten now! 

Flood tide of DARKNESS and of DEATH] Flood tide! 



Mood tide of Heavenly PkACE and Jov! Flood tide! 
Upward through '.tarry world',, swifter than lightning's 

flash, 
I lr, spirit wing', it-, flight ; and angel voices weir otnc him; 

And heavenly EiOPE and FAITH and l.ovi. 

And heavenly FAME and POWER, eternally are his I 

Flood tide of heavenly Peace and Jov ! I Flood-tide ! ! ! 




[88] 

A SABBATH INSPIRATION 

'Sabbath stillness falls on me, 
E'en though the thunder of the train 
Is ever in mine ears. 
The peace that passeth understanding 
Floods every secret chamber of my soul, 
Like tides of ocean, sweeping o'er the land, 

Heart, senses, spirit, — every fibre of my being — 

Reflect the glorious beauty of this day. 

Life never seemed before so full of sentient happiness 

And very joy of living. 

1 lift my voice to God and thank Him, 

From my soul of souls, for life! life!! life!!! 

At peace with all the world, 
My heart goes out to every living soul. 
Every good and perfect thing on earth 
I would fall down before and worship. 

All that in nature most delightful is — 
The beauties of the earth, the sky, the sea — 
All, all appeals to me. 
The aspiring souls of every race and clime 
Are to my own soul knit by a compelling, boundless sym- 
pathy. 



[8 9 ] 

Leap forth, my soul, and gather to thyself 

That universe of souls! 

Sweep through the wide, wide world, 

My heart of hearts, and draw unto thyself 

All other hearts that love as thou dost love! 

And lay thy trophies at the feet of Him 

Who sitteth on the Throne! 

Whose love all-perfect, all-pervading is; 

Who is, Himself, the very Essence of All Love! 



(9°1 
A NEW YEAR'S PERSPECTIVE 

^^^•^ime is ever winging, 
fl J Hearts are ever clinging 
^^^ To the memories of the past — 
Clinging to the last. 

The past is dead, my friend: 

Dwell not in it to the end. 
To the future turn thine eyes; 

See what in it, for thee, lies. 

It hath work that must be done — 

Work from dawn to set of sun. 
Work, with eyes fixed on the goal, 

Inspiration in thy soul 

To do the thing next to thy hand. 

Let Duty draw thee with a silken band — 
Not chain thee with strong links of steel. 

In all Life's duties pleasure feel. 

Thou canst not live for self alone 

While poor humanity lies prone 
Beneath a weary weight of care, 

Of pain, of sorrow, of despair. 



[9i] 

Thy brother's keeper ever, thou: 

For his shortcomings must allow, 
And look with charity, surpassing-kind, 

On sins and errors thou in him dost find. 

If thou wouldst greater knowledge gain, 

If thou broad culture wouldst attain, 
Achieve it with the noble purpose in thy soul 

To use it to uplift the fallen ones: Enroll 

Thy talents, knowledge, culture, in the cause 
Of country and humanity and wiser laws. 

Thy Country needs the best that thou canst give; 
Humanity, instruction how to live. 

So shalt thou find thy place in this old world: 

And, having found, stand firm, with banner bright un- 
furled; 

And there shall rally round thee hosts of noble men, 
Who'll cry to thee — "Lead on again!" 

Awake! Arise! Shake off thy slothful sleep! 

Work! for the morn is here! The shadows deep 
Press close behind the sun ! Soon night will come, 

And Master's voice will call the gleaner home! 



[92] 
MY FRIEND INDEED 

Xs he who quaffs with me, 
Beneath blue skies serene, 
Life's brimming cup of joy, 
And walks with me when Fortune smiles, 
My friend? Perhaps! 

But when the skies are overcast 

And thunders mutter and the lightnings flash, 

And fickle Fortune's smile hath vanished, quite, 

And with adversity and pain I fight 

And drink the bitter dregs of Sorrow's cup — 

Who stands beside me like the rock? 

And whispers — "Lean on me, thou stricken one!" 

And cheers me, comforts me, consoles? 

He is my friend in very deed: 

I have no need to say — "perhaps!" 



[93] 
ADVERSITY 

^^^he train sweeps past 

I J A corn-field stricken by the blast. 

^^^Each stalk hath bowed its head, 

E'en to the very ground. 
Soon 'twill be withered, dead; 

No care may save, no help be found. 

Ah me! the bitter thought 

Of that poor husbandman 
As he surveys the ruin wrought 

By forces he must bow before 
As did those stalks but yesterday — 

Bright hopes of harvest, fled forevermore; 
The fruits of labor turned to swift decay. 

Ah me ! the world- worn sons of men 

Who bow before the blast 
Of elemental forces, far beyond their ken; 

Who see the fruits of life-long toil 
Turn into dust and ashes at the end: 

Who stand beside the open grave 

And hear the clods upon their dear dead fall, 

And feel that all the care and tenderness 

They've lavished on the lifeless-one hath been in vain; 



'M 



And in their anguish, desolation, pain, 

Cry to the heavens to give them hack again 
Those the\ have- lost tor ave. 



stricken soul, look up into the sky! 

Beyond the stars the Father stands 

Ami welcomes to celestial lands. 

The weary, toil worn sons ot men. 

\\a\c Faith and hope, ami thou shalt find 

Amid 1 ite's stress ami wild alarms, 

Beneath thee, ever strong and sure. 
His tender, everlasting arms! 



[95 J 
ODE TO DEATH 

Do MORTAL y<t h.ith COnQUCfcd thee, ( > Deathl 
\o mort ul 1)1 ilxrl t dec, ever. 
Hut some have gone to thy embrace wiili shouts 
of vi( lory 
Upon their li|>'.. With hands outstretched have some, 

I )i',< ouragi 'I, tired of life, entreated thee to take thern from 
The world. Others, in abje< I terror, have groveled in the 

dual 
At thy approach and begged thee for a few more fleeting 

hours. 

And some have gladly given themselves to thee 

Thai other', might a little longer live. 

Mother'., in awful anguish, have plead with thee 

To loose iliy u y i lutt h "" i hildren's throats; 

Fathers have plead for '.on-,, sisters f"t brothers, friends for 

I'm nil',, v.i wen thou '.till inexorable, O cruel Death! 

For thou hast Claimed them .ill hast t.iken them, every 
one. 

lint where, where hasi thou taken them, Death? 
Are they as naught, insentient atoms lost in stygian 

shades? 
Or do their disembodied spirits walk in Fields Elysian 
'Mongsl fragrant flowers which thy touch canst not 

wither? 

Answer/) Death! Answei this* ryofsorrow smittensonsof 

Men through all the .-^es! 



[q6] 

MY COUNTRY 

Lines written on entering New York Harbor after a trip to Europe. 

^^^•^hrough the long morning hours 

I J The dense, cold fog has mantled our great ship, 

^^^ Shutting from ea.ger eyes the shores of that dear 

land 
We long again to see. 

And now, at last, we've shaken off that fleecy garment 
Of the deep, 

And standing with upraised arm, full in the forefront 
Of our view, 
A mighty statue looms majestic in the noonday sun. 

Colossal warder of that teeming mart she stands, 
Holding aloft her burnished torch to enlighten all the 

world. 
And, as with glistening eyes we gaze on her, she seems to 

say: 
"Beyond me lies thy heritage, thy native home, dear land 

of liberty! 
Not quite three hundred years agone, a trackless, silent 

waste, was here: 
A silence broken only by the shouts of savage men 
More cruel than the beasts of prey themselves that 

roamed the forests vast. 



[97] 

"And then proud nobles came from far-off Albion's Isle, 
with charters from the King, 

And founded in Virginia's wilds a home; 

And towns sprang up, only to be laid low again by ruth- 
less Indian bands. 

"And now the fame of this new land is wafted back to 

England old, 
And Pilgrim Fathers cross the wintry seas — fleeing from 

persecutions dire — 
To seek upon New England's shores, 'Freedom to wor- 
ship God!' 
And then, from horrors of red Saint Bartholomew, 
A wretched band of Hugenots brave the ocean-wastes 
And find a refuge on fair Carolina's coast. 

"With famine, pestilence, and ambush of relentless foes, 

Did these three groups of exiles bravely fight; 

Each from the other sundered by primeval forests dense, 

Yet each with aims and purposes the same — 

To wrest from Nature and the hands of barbarous men, 

a great domain, 
Wherein should dwell freedom of conscience, equal rights, 

and brotherhood fraternal. 



[98] 

"Thus, from the loins of those tried men and true, 

The nucleus of a nation sprang: 

And when oppression's heavy hand was by the Mother- 
Country on them laid, 

The Thirteen Colonies, as a single man, rose in their might 

And broke the bonds that held them to that nation 
old across the sea. 

For independence then they cried! For independence, 
through long years, 

They fought and bled and died! 

"Thus, from the fiery crucible of war a nation great was 
born; 

Whose hands, outstretched across the sea, beckoned to all 
the oppressed to come 

And taste the sweets of freedom 'neath the stripes and 
stars. 

And Erin's famine-stricken sons replied; and Polish Pa- 
triots took up the cry; 

And Teuton Races caught the glad refrain; and swarthy 
sons of Italy, 

Striking hands with Norsemen's children, hither came; 

All finding in this favored land that which the lands of 
their nativity denied. 



I 99 I 

"Almost a century hath flown; and with the years 

The Nation's fame hath reached to earth's remotest 

bounds 
And she become the wonder of the world. 

"And yet, within her breast, she bears a festering wound 

That threatens e'en the Union's life itself. 

And now, black clouds of civil war roll upward to the 

heavens. 
To cut away this cancerous growth men into battle rush: 
Brother strives with brother, father slaughters son, upon 

the bloody field. 
The North and South divided stand, and all the world 

looks on, with bated breath, 
As mighty hosts of armed men reel midst the shock of war. 

"Four years of bitter strife — Two million men have given 

up their lives — 
Then comes the end. A mighty shout goes thundering 

round the world — 
'The Union's saved! And Slavery is forever dead!' 

"And now, regenerated, free, the Nation sets her face 

again 
Towards the mark of her high destiny. 
Great enterprises spring up in a single night, and wealth 

is multiplied a thousandfold. 



[ioo] 

Where once the Red-Man made his stealthy way along 
some secret by-path, 

The iron-horse now rushes onward with terrific speed. 

And thus the plains and mountains of the West are con- 
quered, 

E'en to the broad Pacific's rim — the Nation's breast ex- 
panding with the years." 

This then the land, and this its people free, 
Which thou are placed to guard, O statue great! 
Fulfill thy mission grand through all the coming years! 
Let thy illumined torch be freedom's light, enlightening 

every man who cometh to thee 
Seeking here a home free from oppression's hand! 
Send forth its dazzling rays into the darkest corners of 

the globe, 
Until the enslaved souls of every race and clime shall 

bathe in the divine effulgence of its beams, 
And, seeing, shall take heart again and cry — "America! 

The hope of all the world !" 



[ioi] 
THE CALL 

nEAREST again the call, my soul? — 
The call that through long years 
Hath sounded in thine ears 
Like far-off thunder's roll ? 
Hearest again the call ? 

And wilt thou shrink again and fall? 

Hearest again the call, my soul? 

Shall thickets dark beset again thy way, 
Without one friendly ray 

To guide thee to the goal ? — 
Without one gleam to cheer thee on 

To meet the Glorious Dawn? 

Hearest again the call, my soul ? 

Awake! Arise! 
Gaze into Freedom's eyes! 

From her thy inspiration draw; 

Lay every weight aside, 

Stay greed's besetting tide 
Forevermore! 

Hearest again the call, my soul? 

Awake! Arise! Put on thy strength, 
Until at length 



t 102] 

Thou standest in the forefront of the fray 
Ready the foe to smite, — 

Ready to die for freedom's sway! 

Hearest again the call, my soul ? 

Then plunge into the strife! 
Fight for thy Country's life! 

Grapple with those who dare 
E'en her dishonor share! 

Strike in the gathering gloom! 

Strike with the sword of doom ! 

i 

Hearest again the call, my soul ? 

O'er thee her banner see — 
Stars, stripes, forever free! 

And, ringing in the sky, 
Hear thou God's battle-cry! 

See thou his fiery cross flaming on high! 
Hark thou! He calls to thee: 

"This sign shall ever be token of Victory!" 



1 103 J 

IN THE VALE OF THE GREEN SHENANDOAH 

^^^■^is night on the green Shenandoah: 

M j From the south comes the rumble and roar 

^^^ Of the guns of the battling hosts, 

Contending for mastery there 
Of a valley more wondrously fair 

Than those far-famed Ausonian coasts. 

And the night-wind's soft sigh in the trees, 

And those stars the young sentinel sees 
In the depths of the infinite dome, 

Bring thoughts of the coming of peace, 
When war with its horrors shall cease — 

Bring visions of mother and home. 

'Tis night on the green Shenandoah: 

And nearer the rumble and roar 
Of the guns of the battling hosts; 

And fainter the low camp-fire gleams 
In the eyes of that golden-haired boy, 

As he sinks into slumber and dreams 
Of mother and home-coming joy. 

'Tis night on the green Shenandoah: 
And nearer and nearer the rumble and roar 

Of the guns of the battling hosts; 

But that golden-haired sentinel sleeps, 



[io 4 ] 

As the light of the dawn slowly creeps 
O'er the hills of the green Shenandoah. 

Asleep at his post on the green Shenandoah: 

And nearer, still nearer, the rumble and roar 
Of the guns of the battling hosts — 

Awake, boy! Awake! or else nevermore 
Look the world in the face. O, the awful disgrace! 

Awake, boy! Awake! From thy fair name efface 
The shame of this night! 

Awake, boy! Awake! Think of mother and home! 
Awake, boy! Awake! For the morning is come 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah! 

But his corporal finds him asleep on the ground; 

And he wakes with a start at the ominous sound 
Of the grounding of arms and the word of command, 

As they wrest from his nerveless and trembling hand 
The musket he's borne in the terrible fight 

For country and home, for freedom and right: 
And, quaking, he reads in his captain's stern eye 

The miserable death that the faithless must die 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

'Tis morn on the green Shenandoah: 

And nearer, still nearer, the rumble and roar 
Of the guns of the battling hosts. 



[io5] 

And afar in the City of Penn, 
A sore-stricken mother in prayer 

Begs the great God of Battles to spare 
Her boy who must die on the morrow at ten 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

'Tis noon at the Capital's seat: 

Up the steps, through the dust and the heat, 
A woman with silvery hair, bowed down with a weight of 
despair, 

Is wending her way to the great White House there, 
To beg and to plead, again and again, 

That her boy may not die on the morrow at ten 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

But she's stopped at the portal: 

"Mr. Lincoln is busy. He cannot be seen," 
The orderly said. "O sir, you can't mean 

That I've come all in vain! O my darling! my son!" 
The orderly answered — "A great battle is on; 

The Union is lost if by traitors 'tis won 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 

And there on her knees, with face bowed in the dust, 
That poor mother prayed to her God, great and just, 

That the Union might live, that the battle be won — 
"O God! Save the nation! Take even my son! 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 



[io6] 

Then she lifts her tired head, and her world-weary eyes, 
And lo! they are filled with o'erwhelming surprise: 

For above her is towering a gigantic form, 

With face sad and furrowed, and scarred by the storm 

Of the conflict that's raging on fields drenched with gore, 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

And he lifted her up, and his eyes filled with tears 

As she clung to his hands, but he calmed all her fears, 
And tenderly laid her old head on his breast, 

And whispered — "There, there, little mother! Now 

rest!" 
Then he asked her the name, and called for a pen, 

And said — "Your boy shall not die on the morrow at ten 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 
***** 

'Tis noon on the green Shenandoah: 
And into the valley, with rush and with roar, 

Sweeps the panic-struck army in headlong retreat. 

Great God! Can nothing now stay those swift-flying 
feet? 

"The Union is lost!" — the wild cry rings out, 
And the on-coming rebels exultantly shout 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

"The Union is lost!" See! her bright colors fall! 
The bearer lies pierced by a swift minie ball. 



[ i©7] 

Ah, no! All's not lost! See! those bright colors rise! 

A golden-haired boy, with clear, flashing eyes, 
Waves the old flag aloft with his manacled hands, 

And shouts, to the left and the right, quick commands, 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

"Come back! O, come back to the colors again! 

Come back ! O, come back ! Wipe out this foul stain !" 
And through the dun smoke and the cannon's red-crash 

And the bullets' swift-whir and the sabers' bright-flash, 
They hear that stentorian call ringing out, 

They rally around him with thunderous shout — 
The rebel hordes wheel! In mad terror they run! 

The Union is saved! The battle is won 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah! 

i|> i|t a|c aft >|i 

'Tis morn on the green Shenandoah: 

And silent forever the rumble and roar 
Of the guns of the battling hosts. 

But hark to the sound of that muffled drum! 
And see, with that golden-haired boy they now come 

Far down the long line of battle-scarred men, 
All breathlessly waiting the stroke of ten 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah! 

By a deep, open grave they are binding him there: 
Blindfolded he stands, with his bright golden hair, 



[io8] 

That shimmers and gleams in the hot morning sun — 

What boots it to him that the battle is won; 
That his comrades are muttering and cursing, and say — 
'Twas this same fair-haired boy that saved us the day 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 

"One!" The fatal number rings upon his ears; 

"Two!" He sees his mother, toiling through the years; 
"Three!" He prays for her with his last fleeting breath; 

He feels upon his throat the icy clutch of Death: 
The final word is on the lips of that grim man-at-arms, 

And twenty gleaming muskets, levelled at his breast, 
Await that word which ushers him to rest 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

Speak not that word, O captain, stern! 

Speak not that word, and thou shalt learn 
That God reigns in His sky! 

For through the ranks goes up the cry — 
"Hold, sergeant! Hold! The President! !" 

And then, as if from Heaven sent, 
Strides down the line of smoke-grimed men, 

A figure with majestic mien, 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 

And on his arm a woman, bowed with years, 
And at the sight the blinding tears 



[ io 9 ] 

Roll down the cheeks of those war-hardened men. 

And now the shout goes up again — 
"The President! The President! God bless the Presi- 
dent!" 
And Lincoln, dim-eyed, on those eager faces gazed intent, 
Then said — "Loose him! He's colonel of his regiment!" 

And straightway gave him his commission there; 
And son and mother, by that open grave, knelt down in 
silent prayer. 

Then from that 'shattered] army's throat a song arose, 
with one accord — 
"'Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the 
Lord, 
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath 
are stored, 
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift 
sword!' 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 

And a woman's voice took up the song, in a high and 
quavering key — 
"'In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across 
the sea, 
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: 
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men 
free' 
In the vale of the green Shenandoah!" 



[no] 

Fifty long years have passed and gone 

Since that valley rang with the victors' song; 
And that fair-haired boy, with his manacled hands, 

Snatched the Flag from the dust and gave commands 
That won the battle and turned the tide, 

Where the Blue and the Gray sleep side by side; 
But the Old Flag still floats on the soft southern breeze, 

And the night-winds still whisper and sigh in the trees, 
And the night-stars still glisten and gleam as of yore, 

In the vale of the green Shenandoah. 



[Ill] 

THE FLAG 

y^^HE Flag! The Flag! ! The Flag! ! ! 
f ^) My Flag! Your Flag! Our Flag! 
^^^ Live and die beneath its folds! 

For it the future holds 
Deeds of glory yet untold! 

The Flag! The Flag! ! The Flag! ! ! 

My Flag! Your Flag! Our Flag! 
See how God's firmament 

Hath to our emblem lent 
Its stripes and stars! 

The Flag! The Flag! ! The Flag! ! ! 

My Flag! Your Flag! Our Flag! 
I'll love it while I live, — 

My very heart's blood give 
Ere it shall trail the dust! 

The Flag! The Flag! ! The Flag! ! ! 

My Flag! Your Flag! Our Flag! 
O, let my dying eyes 

Gaze on it to the end! 
Then, sweeping through the skies, 

I'll bear it, e'en to Paradise! 



[112] 

LIFE'S JOURNEY 

^^^he young man laughs with boyish glee; 
M J With merry tales, with jestings free, 
^^^ The moments pass, the hours flee; 
Good-fellowship here reigns supreme: 
We speed along, as in a dream, 
Across the Lake, whose waters gleam 
Like myriad jewels in the sun. 

And now, the first lap of our journey done, 

Our iron-courser stops to rest: 

And far behind us in the west 

The desert lies; the snowy crest 

Of towering mountains greets us here, 

And rushing river, crystal-clear — 

And farther east, another desert, drear. 

The young man weeps! O bitter tear! 

Dumb with unuttered-anguish, weak, he stands, 

The fatal message crushed within his hands — 

"Our mother died today!" 

And as he reads, each ray 

Of light seems blotted from the world, 

And he into the outer darkness hurled. 

"Ah, this is life!" he faintly said: 

"An hour ago in song and jest I led, 

And there, at home, my dear old mother, dead!" 



[ii3l 

Ah, yes, poor boy, 'tis life! 
With joy and pain each hour is rife: — 
Ah, who can solve the riddle of it all? 
Before the awful mystery of death I fall 
Helpless upon my knees; and, in my anguish, call 
Through the black shadows of this earthly night — 
"Dear Father, take my hand! Guide me aright 
Through this bewildering maze of life and death 
Into Eternal Light!" 



[."4] 
THANKSGIVING DAY 

^^^"^hanksgiving Day again is here — 
fl J Great Festival of all the year! 
^^i^ The day when sons and daughters come 
To the dear, ne'er-forgotten home. 

No other home is just like this, 

Whether of high or low degree; 
Where'er we roam, by land or sea, 

'Tis this abode we ever miss. 

Here played we in the days long gone, 
Here prayed we at our mother's knee, — 

Through blinding tears her face we see; 
On places vacant now we gaze forlorn. 

The faded years have bitter lessons taught, 
And fleeting time hath left its scar and sting, 

But still Thanksgiving never fails to bring 
A joy to which all other joys are naught. 

Ah! who can sing the praises of that tie 
Which binds the hearts of kindred dear 

Upon this day of feasting and good cheer? 
O, when that tie is severed, I would die! 

We greet again Thanksgiving, then: 
We thank the Giver of All Good 



[ii5] 

For life, for health, for raiment, food, 
For friendships 'mongst the sons of men. 

And when for us Thanksgivings end, 
And sundered earthly ties for aye, 

A long, sweet, blest Thanksgiving Day 
Beyond the stars we'll spend! 



[u6] 
MY SYMPHONY 

Xdo not ask for power: 
I do not crave an hour 
When men shall bow the knee 
For something I have done 
That hath their praises won. 

I would all-powerful be 

Only to those I see 
Stricken by sorrow's rod, 

Losing their hold on God, 
Shorn by adversity. 

For these I ask for power — 
To cheer them irt life's fray, 

To help them on their way 
Unto a brighter day. 

I do not ask for gold 

That I may wealthy be; 
Only that I may see 

With eyes of charity 
Those whom my gold may help — 

Friends who have less than I, 
Causes that to me cry, 



[U7] 

Poverty forever nigh — 
For these I ask for wealth. 

I do not ask for fame — 

That I recorded be 
In Time's Great History — 

Only that men shall say 
Over my lifeless clay: 

"He did his little part, 

He touched the throbbing heart 
Of all humanity, — 

This is his fame!" 

I do not ask for love — 

Only as it may prove 
A stepping-stone to that above; 

Love for those near to me, 
Love for my country free, 

Love for humanity. 

Ah! this my song shall be, 

Cheering and strengthening me 

Unto the end: 

Then in that symphony 

Of His great love for me, 
Through all eternity, 

My song shall blend! 



[n8] 
NEW YEAR'S EVE 

Ornt years, the flying years! 
the tears, the hitter tears! 
tears that never come again, 
Tears that tall, and tall in vain — 
O the barren years! 

the hitter tears! 

What is lite to me? 

O the years, the Hying vears! 
O the troubles and the tears! 

Years oi promise ne'er fulfilled, 

Years with hopes forever chilled — 
the troublous vears! 

O the haunting tears! 
What is lite to me? 

Yes, the vears are riving! 

Sad heart, eease thy crying! 
Think not of the past 

With its hitter tears, 
With its troubles, tears; 

// will never come again! 

Face the coming vears hravelv to the last 
keep thy soul, thy name. 



[1X9] 

Spotless, without Btain 
Life shall blessed be. 

Fears and troubles flee 

With the: Hying years: 
i leaven's eternal peaee 

At the end appears! 



[iio] 

NIGHT 

^^^he night falls: 

f M She folds 

^^^ Her sensuous arms about me 

And holds 
Me fast in dark embrace; 

Her ebon heart beats full 
Against my breast; 

Her fingers rest 
With somber touch 

Upon my weary eyes; 
And Nature's voices, 

At her call, 
Bid me to balmy sleep — 

To rest ! To sleep ! To dream ! 

To rest — after the toils and troubles of the day; 

To sleep — in blest indifference to grinding cares 

And sins and strifes of waking hours forever fled; 

To dream — of happy things that came, perchance, 

Like flecks of sunshine o'er the summer fields 

When storm-clouds lower- 
Sweet intercourse with 'genial friends, 

Or music's soft, delicious spell, 
Or love's illuminating thrill, 

Or walks among God's trees and flowers. 



[121] 

Ah, what a legacy dost thou bestow, 

O slumbrous Night, on all mankind! — 
The power of dear forgetfulness; 

Recuperation for tomorrow's battle; 
And, through the silent hours, sweet dreamings of past 
happiness and bliss. 

Sleep on, thou tired spirit, sleep! 

Dream on! Dream on! And rest! 
Tomorrow's rising sun shall wake thee, 

Tomorrow's sin and toil await thee — 
Dream on! Dream on! And rest! 

So sleep thou on through earthly nights, — 

Sleep on and dream and rest! 
And when the night of death shall fall, 

And thou dost feel her ghastly arms enfold thee, 
Her leaden heart-beats 'gainst thy weary breast, 

Her icy fingers on thine eyelids laid, 
Sink thou to sleep and rest! 

Dream on! Dream on! 

Dream of the coming morn! 
Dream of the day whose sun shall never set, — 

When sin and pain and toil and care 
Shall flee eternally away 

Before the dazzling splendor of God's smile! 
Dream on! Dream on! And rest! 



[laaj 
WEARINESS 

Y spirit faints beneath its load of care; 
An avalanche of trouble bears me down; 

There is no sureease anywhere; 
1 rest 'neath Fortune's sullen frown. 



m 



All Nature to me lifeless seems; — 

The woodland streams and sunset-skies 

Are only filmy, faded dreams 
1 ga/e upon with listless eyes. 

And strains of sweetest nuisie fall 
Unheeded on my deadened ear; 

The morning song-bird's gladsome eall 
No more my tired soul doth cheer. 

Ye Gods oi Strength, come back to me! 

Ye Gods oi Vigor, touch my brain! 
And resurrect me, strong and tree, 
To battle with the world again! 



I 123) 
A CHRISTMAS SONG 

^/~^ ()} - for the cheer of Christmas-time! 

■ When the bells ring out in a glad, sweet chime, 
^ — »v» A message to all of goodwill sublime — 
Ho! for the cheer of Christmas-time! 

Ho! for the peace of Christmas-time! 
For peace o'er all the restless earth 
Through a heaven-sent, loving Savior's birth — 
Ho! for the peace of Christmas-time! 

Ho! for the joy of Christmas-time! 
When children's voices chant and sing 
The praises of the Christ-Child King — 
Ho! for the joy of Christmas-time! 

Ho! for the love of Christmas-time! 
A love that encompasses all the Race — 
The rich and the poor, with redeeming grace — 
Ho! for the love of Christmas-time! 

Ho! for the hope of Christmas-time! 
That, at the end of our earthly road, 
We'll lay down our heavy, weary load, 
And enter the many mansions fair, 
To find an eternal Christmas there! 



[124] 

SUCCESS 

^■w^hat is success?" the young man cries: 
W J "Success," the multi-millionaire replies, 
vl/ "Is the ability to keep what one has gained; 

Nor once permit business with sentiment to blend — 
That is success!" 

"What is success?" the maiden cries: 

"Success," the gilded-butterfly replies, 
"Is the ability to keep the sterner sex 

Forever at your feet, 
And then to choose at last, wealth, title, power — 
That is success!" 

"What is success?" the student cries: 

"Success," the deeply-learned man replies, 

"Is the ability to draw that power from knowledge which 
shall overawe a wondering world — 

That is success!" 

"What is success?" the outcast cries: 

"Success," the unsuccessful man replies, 
"Is the ability to touch a hardened soul like thine, 

And set thy stumbling feet upon the rock — 
That is success!" 

This then is the great lesson all must learn: 
Success lies in man's helpfulness and love. 



[125] 

And knowledge, title, power, are not life's greatest goal. 

For, though devoid of these, in Heaven's eyes 
Thou mayst successful be, e'en though to all the world 

Thou art become an unsuccessful castaway! 



[126] 

REST 

" 0, for the wings of a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest. " 

O where shall I find rest? 
With spirit sore distressed 
I lift my weary eyes unto the hills, 
For rest, sweet rest! 

O, where shall I find rest? 
With troubled soul, oppressed, 
I cry to the vast ocean-waste, 
For rest, dear rest! 

O, where shall I find rest? 

With tired brain, depressed, 

I wander on through springtime-fields, 

For rest, soft rest! 

O, where shall I find rest? 

With aching heart, unblest, 

I lose myself in summer-forests dark, 

For rest, kind rest! 

O, where shall I find rest? 
In fitful dreams I take the morning's wings 
And fly to earth's remotest bounds, 
For rest, loved rest! 



[127] 

O, where shall I find rest? 

Nor mountain-height, nor ocean-waste, 

Nor springtime-fields, nor forests dark, 

Nor all of earth's immensity, 

Give answer to my cry! 

O, where shall I find rest? 

In dumb despair I raise my heavy hands to heaven, 

And lo! out of those deeps of blue, 

There comes an answer to my prayer: 

Resounding through the ambient dome 
A voice, majestic, makes reply — 
"My son, up here, beyond the stars supernal, 
There yet remains for thee a rest, — 
Sweet rest, eternal!" 



[128] 

PEACE 

Qeace, perfect peace is here! 
Bright visions of a yester-year 
Come trooping o'er my soul, 
And deathless memories unroll 
Sweet pictures of a long-ago. 

The troubles, worries, and the fret 
Of intervening years I can forget 

In this dear, hallowed place; 
The pain and sorrow all efface, 

That came with manhood's battling strife. 

Ah, yes, 'tis perfect peace! 

'Mid childhood scenes I find surcease; 
Here evermore I fain would rest, 

Here dream the dreams of boyhood blest, 
Here sink, at last, into eternal peace! 



[I2 9 ] 

SLEEP 

^■j^ hen sleep doth bind mine eyes, — 

W J Ah! then I can forget 

VA^ The grinding care, the weary task, 

The turmoil, hurry, fret, 
Of these long daylight hours — 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes. 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes, 

I can forget 
The breaking hearts, the wasted lives, 

The homes where love is never met 
And only sodden souls do dwell — 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes. 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes, 

I can forget 
The countless failures of the past; 

The bitter loss, the vain regret — 
Those haunting ghosts of memory — 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes. 

When sleep doth bind mine eyes, 

I can forget 
The faithless friends, with promises unkept, 

Who held the poisoned chalice to my lips and let 



[i3°l 

Me drink, e'en to the bitter dregs — 
When sleep doth bind mine eyes. 

Come, blessed sleep, and bind mine eyes! 

Let me forget 
That I have ever dwelt in tenement of clay: 

Lead thou me gently on thy dreamy way, 
And set me down at last in that Fair Country, 

Far beyond the skies — 
Come, blessed sleep, and bind mine eyes! 



[i3i] 
TO WASSILY SAFONOFF 

In commemoration of his last night as Conductor of the New York Philharmonic 
Society — Saturday Evening, March 27th, /pop, at Carnegie Hall. 

Xf all the music that has touched my heart, 
And thrilled my soul through all the years — 
The organ-tones in some cathedral grand, 
The cadences of some sweet symphony, 
The martial strains of some great military band, 
The solemn harmonies of dear old hymns, 
And glorious notes from prima-donna throats, 
And simple melodies of home and love, 
And warbling of the birds in field and wood, 
And joyous laughter of the mountain-brook: 
E'en too, the "music of the spheres" — 
Those angel- voices that have come to me in dreamy sleep — 
If these could fall again upon mine ears 
In one vast volume of harmonious sound, 
Not all of them combined could give to me 
That thrill of ecstasy which swept, 
Like lightning, o'er my soul that night. 

Dear Friend, I lay this tribute at thy feet, 
As did thy audience great, on that last night, 
Beneath the thraldom of thy mighty spell. 
I hear again those plaudits, loud and deep; 
I see once more the wreath of laurel brought 



h3 2 ] 

To crown the Master, Emperor, King, — 
Monarch of Music's ever-blessed Realm. 
All hail to thee, Maestro Great! 
Go forth unfaltering on thy mission grand. 
May every soul be touched as mine has been 
That comes within the influence of thy power. 
For Heaven hath given to thee that spark divine, 
That inspiration that shall help to speed the hour 
When love and peace shall reign supreme, 
And hate and strife shall be no more. 

And hail to thee! O Glorious Morn! 
Whose rising beams shall usher in 
The Fatherhood of God, sublime, 
The Brotherhood of all Mankind! 




1 133 J 
A PRAYER 

father, pointing through an open door; 
A little child, obedient, entering in — 
The train speeds by. 

Dear Father, make thou me, e'en as that little child. 

Guide thou my feet along life's weary road: 

And then, at last, through earthly portals dark, 

Point thou the way, 

And I, obedient, will enter in to realms and 

Mansions of Eternal Day! 



RETROSPECTION 

^^^he old year is fading. 
M J Are we glad that 'tis gone? 
^^•^ Has it left us disheartened, 
Despondent, forlorn? 

Have its lessons been bitter? 

Have its tasks seemed too hard? 
Has it left our souls weary, 

Our hearts sad and scarred? 

Has hate left its mark 

And anger its stain 
And envy its venom 

And sorrow its pain? 

Or has love reigned supreme 
In the days that are flown ? 

Have sweet seeds of kindness 
Been winnowed and sown? 

Have heart-aches been ended 
And heart-breaks been mended 

By words from our lips 
Or by deeds from our hands? 



[i35] 

O, the joy and the sorrow, 
The pleasure and pain, 

The love and the hate, 
The sunshine and rain, 

The sweet and the bitter, 
Are never in vain, 

If, out of the turmoil 

And peace of the years, 
The heart still responds 

And the soul still aspires 
To thoughts that are noble 

And love that is true; 
For they lead us at last 

To the portals of Time, 
And usher us into 

God's New Year sublime! 



[i36] 
A BURIAL AT SEA 

How hangs the mist o'er the face of the deep; 
The ponderous bulk of the great ship is still; 
The men at the rail lift their burden so light, 
And await the last word of command. 
And the wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea — 
These shall her requiem be! 

Wrapped in her garments of sleep, dreamless sleep, 

Free from all pain, so peaceful she lies; 
While asleep in the cabin a motherless babe 

Is dreaming of her and of home far away. 
And the wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea — 

These shall her requiem be! 

A sister is waiting in yonder far port, 

A mother is yearning for her 'circling arms; 

But those fathomless depths wait and yearn for her, too, 
And lift to caress her their seething white lips. 

And the wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea — 
These shall her requiem be! 

The last word is spoken! 

In the gray light of dawn, 
A swift, downward gleam of white canvas, 

And chill waters forever close o'er her. 



1 137 J 

And the wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea — 
These shall her requiem be! 



Bright is the morning that follows; 

Far in our white wake the spot 
Beneath which she lies in her deep ocean-bed, 

With the sea-grasses waving above her. 
And the wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea- 

These shall her requiem be! 

And I think of another bright morning to come, 

When, from world's end to world's end, together 
Shall roll the firmament vast, like a scroll, 

And the deep, cruel sea shall give up its dead. 
And, until then, unceasing, 

The wail of the wind, and the moan of the sea — 

These shall her requiem be! 



[138] 
THANKSGIVING 

Het us give thanks, upon this Day of Thanks, 
As did our fathers in the days of old — 
Lift high our voices in a song of praise to Him 
For blessings far outnumbering our deserts — 
That health and strength and courage still are ours; 
That in our hearts dwell happiness and love; 
That life grows sweeter as the days glide on; 
That, through another year, the scythe of the Grim Reaper 
Hath not mown us, nor any of our loved ones, down; 
That the eternal verities of God's love and tender care 
Grow clearer to us as our span of life speeds to the end; 
That within the confines of our beloved Country 
Abundance and prosperity do reign, and over all 
The Angel of Peace spreadeth her protecting wings. 
"O, let us give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good, 
For His mercy endureth forever!" 



[ J 39] 
THE MARTYRS 

Lines written after visiting the 'Torture Chamber at The Hague, and, later, hearing Bach's 
great organ in the Church of St. Bavokerk at Haarlem. 

^^«^hrough iron bars the sunlight warm is streaming, 
M J Making still more hideous these instruments of 
^^^ pain, 

And as we gaze we seem to catch the gleaming 
Of those fires of torture lit by the Sons of Cain. 

Speak! O ye walls! and tell the awful story! 

Dead stones awake! and cry to highest heaven 
Of deeds of blackness, now grown old and hoary, 

When cruel power to bigots' hands was given. 

"Man's inhumanity to man" was here revealed, 
Where groans of poignant anguish rent the air, 

Until at last parched lips by death were sealed — 
Lips whispering to the end a fervent prayer. 

"Recant! Recant!" a deep-toned voice is saying, 
"Turn from thy heresy again to Mother Church!" 

"Keep thou me faithful!" the tortured one is praying, 
While very pangs of hell his mangled body search. 

O Christ! who died for these in bitter degradation, 
Why were Thine ears then shut against those awful 
cries ? 



[i 4 o] 

Where then the merits of Thy great salvation 

When cruelties like these could rend the very skies? 

Where was the angel bright who saved thy servant Daniel? 

Where was the power that rescued David from Saul's 
hand? 
Where was the myriad-host that Thy hand couldst empanel 

To snatch thy suffering children from the fiery brand? 

Walls answer not; the silence grows depressing; 

Mute are these stones that once ran red with gore; 
Even the sun withholds its light caressing, 

As with sad hearts we close the heavy door. 
* * * * * * * 

What are these strains that on our ears are pealing? 

Whence come these wailing cries that fill the choir and 
nave? 
Whence these angelic notes upon our senses stealing, 

As if High Heaven to us its benediction gave? 

What are these thunderous tones that awe our souls to 
stillness — 
That vibrate through this sacred place, in accents long 
and deep, 
And fill our hearts with peace in all its fullness, 

While heavenly joy within its watch and ward doth 
keep? 



[141] 

Find here, my soul of souls, what those mute stones re- 
taineth; 
Hear in these organ-tones the answer thou hast sought — 
For, "Alleluja! our God forever reigneth!" 

Chant all those martyred ones in Heaven's celestial 
court. 

"Through tribulation great," I hear His voice resounding, 
"Have these true souls well won the right to wear 

That crown of life, with joy and peace abounding, 

Which those, who, faithful unto death, shall share!" 

So, when of that far land across the seas I'm dreaming, 
And that accursed chamber is once more before mine eye, 

I listen for the answer from that great organ streaming, 
And hear those martyr-voices ringing loud and clear on 
High! 



[142] 
INTO THE NIGHT 

Xnto the night we are speeding along, 
Into the night, into the night, 
With rumble and roar for our even-song, 
Into the night. 

Into the night we are hurrying on, 

Into the night, into the night, 
By a fiery, tireless steed we are drawn, 

Into the night. 

Into the night we sweep towards the West, 

Into the night, into the night, 
Sweeping with thunderous whirl and unrest, 

Into the night. 

Into the night we leap towards the dawn, 

Into the night, into the night, 
Hast'ning to greet a day yet unborn, 

Into the night. 

Into the night — Ah! this is Life! 

Into the night, into the night, 
Life with its turbulence, toil and strife, 

Into the night. 



1 143 J 

Out of the night! See! The East is aglow! 

Out of the night! out of the night! 
With rumble and roar exultant we go 

Into the light! 




[i44l 
CHRISTMAS MEMORIES 

'weet on the air the Christmas bells are ringing — 
Ringing out glad tidings of good will and peace 
to men; 
Voices of children burst forth in joyous singing, 

Heavenly choirs responding, repeat those songs again. 

Thoughts of past Christmas-tides are all about us throng- 
ing, 

Visions of the bygone years before us come and go, 
Bringing in their shining train a deep, insistent longing 

For home and kin and mother-love of that dear long-ago. 

Why should we seek to stifle this great yearning 

For childhood joys and happiness that never'll come 

again ? 

Why seek to quench the love that in our hearts is burning 

For old-time scenes and faces, viewed through the mist 

and rain 

Of tears that come unbidden, of tears that fall in vain? 

Dear Father! Thou the giver of all life and light for- 
ever! 
Let not these memories of the past a hollow mockery 
prove. 
O, keep our faith unshaken ! Give back those Thou hast 
taken — 
O, in Thy many mansions blest, join us to those we love! 



ffi 



[i45l 
QUESTIONINGS 

hence doth the lone bird fly, 

Swift through its realms of sky? 
Where doth it roam? 



Whence floats the fleecy cloud, 

White as a virgin's shroud? 
Where is its home? 

Whence doth the proud ship sail, 

Steady in calm and gale? 
Where is her port? 

Whence runs the laughing brook, 
Dashing through shady nook? 
What ocean's sought? 

Whence dies the sunset's blaze — 

Flinging its dazzling rays 
Into the night? 

Whence fade the throbbing stars 

As morning's radiant bars 
Usher the light? 

Whence flies the fleeting breath 

As mortal sinks to death? 
To what far shore? 



[i 4 6] 

Why dost thou doubt, my soul? 

Heaven is the final goal, 
God is the Perfect Whole — 

Thine evermore! 



[i47l 
BOYHOOD MEMORIES 

'^^fc-^His is the spot around which cluster 

4 J Tender memories of my boyhood days — 

^^"^ Memories that have dwelt with me 

Through all the years since that 

Bright morning on which I set my face 

So hopefully towards far-off western lands — 

Memories that, even in my dreams, 

Have overshadowed me in benedictions soft and sweet! 

And now I live again those happy olden days! — 

The boyhood friends; the events — some commonplace, 

Some rare and fraught with subtle meaning — 

That made up the web and woof 

Of all the yesterdays of my younger years. 

Here is the peaceful river, catching 

Ten thousand glintings from the summer sun; 

The wooded slopes beyond its western rim; 

The quiet churchyard with its green graves, 

O'er which the bending branches chant their solemn 

requiem; 
The boat, moored to the old tree by the river's bank, 
In which I often floated with the stream 
On summer evenings long ago; the apple tree, 
Grown old and hoar, 'neath which I used to watch 
The golden beams die in the radiant west, 



[148] 

And long to follow them to lands beyond the sun — 
All these come back to me in one great, overpowering 
Rush of tender memories of those far-off years. 

But in this happy retrospection, in which I live again 
My boyhood hours, a shadow falls upon my heart, 
And a poignant, unassuaged sorrow fills it to overflowing. 
Her tender, tired face is mine to gaze upon no longer! 
Nevermore in this dear place will those soft eyes 
Look into mine, and that sweet voice address me! 
Gone from this earth, its suffering, toil and care, 
She sleeps in yonder hallowed spot with those 
She loved so well in other years. 

Mother mine! I call to thee across the valley dark 
That lies between thy bright celestial home and this 
Poor world of time, and thou dost answer me. 

Here on this spot, where in the bygone years you toiled 
And hoped and prayed, I feel thy gentle presence near. 
And boyhood's innocence returns to me, and mantles me 
With robes of ermine white, as spotless as thine own 
In Heaven, my Mother dear! And, with that noble queen 
of old, 

1 cry to God: "O, keep me innocent! — Make others 
great!" 



© 



[149] 

MEXICO 

lack clouds roll up from Mexico, 

That sunny land, that land of woe- 
War-worn, strife-riven Mexico! 



Wild cries ring out from Mexico, 

Ring out on flaming winds that blow 
Famine and death o'er Mexico. 

And women's moans come on the breeze from Mexico, 

And shrieks of little children, running to and fro 
In streets wet with their blood, in Mexico. 

"How long, O Lord, how long," in Mexico, 

Shall they maltreat Thy children so? — 
Benighted, murderous Mexico! 

And vows of vengeance rend the air in Mexico; 

Vengeance 'gainst them who laid their chieftain low- 
He who, but four short days ago, 

Ruled panic-stricken Mexico. 

His was no tyrant's rule, in Mexico! 

Gentle alike to friend or foe, 
Madero lived for Mexico. 

"Dreamer and Weakling" named they him, in Mexico. 
" Dreamer and Weakling?" — Aye, but better so 



Than treacherous assassin 'neath whose blow 
Madero died for Mexico! 

Beware! Beware! O Mexico! 

The Northern Eagle's eyes expand and glow 
With horror at thy deeds, O Mexico! 

From Freedom's Heights I hear her call, 

I hear the tramp of armed men, 
I hear their answering shouts again! 

Beware! Beware! Or thou shalt know 

That retribution's at thy gates, — 
O savage, blood-stained Mexico! 



h5il 

PEACE 

Owhen shall this old world have peace? 
We pray for peace, and yet peace cometh not. 
Dun war-clouds roll athwart the Balkan skies, 
And thund'rous cannon belch and flame 
Their message from the fiends in hell ! 

And fields and streets in Mexico 

Run red with human blood. 

There, brothers' hands are clutching brothers' throats, 

And there, assassins' bullets, in the dark, 

Lay leaders of the people low. 

We pray for peace, and yet peace cometh not. 

Nor ever will come while men cherish in their hearts, 

Hate, avarice, and wild lustings after power. 

O Thou Omniscient, Mighty One! 

Creator of this little world 

And of those greater worlds 

That gleam and glisten 

In the midnight-skies, 

Touch with Thy magic wand of love 

The hearts of savage, selfish men ! 

Lead Thou poor human nature by the hand, 

Beside still waters, to those pastures green 

Of World-wide, Everlasting Peace! 



n 



[152] 

JOAQUIN MILLER 

ow lovely was that Sabbath morn 
On which we climbed the steeps to clasp his hand! 



The enchanting land resplendant glowed with sunshine 
Such as falls only from California skies; 

Before our eyes twin cities fair, 

Whose shores are lapped by summer seas; 

Upon the breeze came songs of lark and oriole, 
And lowing of the cattle on green hills; 

Murmuring rills leaped forth from bosky lurking-places, 
Now and then, behind the winding turns; 

Wild flowers and ferns bent o'er their limpid waters, 
Glinting in the sun: 

Anon, through emerald openings in the wooded range, 
Glimpses we caught of that vast ocean-waste 
Which sweeps resistless to the Farthest West. 

And now, we rest a moment at his humble door, 

Then, entering, greet him there, prostrate upon his couch 

of pain, 
From which he nevermore shall rise again. 



[i53l 

The wild beast's skin that drapes his homely bed 
Brings memories of his wild and stormy past. 
But, as we gaze, he seems to cast it from him, 
As 'twere some tattered garment, useless now. 

Upon his furrowed brow, enwreathed with flowing locks 

of white, 
The peace of God indelibly seems set. 
Serener yet, his pallid face, and those world-weary eyes, 
So soon to look on Paradise. 



As we recall that ne'er-forgotten day, 

The glorious beauty of those Sabbath hours 

Fit setting seems for the last act of his life's play: 

Out of the shadows, as the curtain falls, 

To hovering angels bright, he calls — 

"I hear ye! Pity me! Take me away! Take me away!" 

Ah, yes! in very deed, sweeping the heavens free, 
"Some fair star earthward stooped, and beckoned thee," 
And thou art gone! 



Yet thy name liveth on, Sonorous Singer of a Golden Time! 
Builder of massive monuments of stone! 



[154] 

Thy songs are on the lips of all the world — in every 

clime, — 
And thou, at last, art come into thine own. 
And like that noble cairn thou didst erect to Moses' name 
On thy beloved "Hights," — imperishable thy fame. 

O matchless poet! Thou who so beautifully told 

The wondrous story of this Land of Gold — 

This Land of Promise by the western sea, 

Thy works do follow thee: 

And in that Golden Land, beyond the sun, 

Thou hearest now the Master's words — "Well done!" 



THANKSGIVING DAY, 1914 

^^^»^his is our day of thanksgiving! 

fl J Thanksgiving for what? 

^^1^ That our nation is free from the blot — 

The red blot of carnage and war? 

That the shrieks of the dying which come from afar 

Come not from the lips of our own? 

That the lands drenched with gore and with misery 

strown, 
Lie beyond the wild wastes of the sea? 
That our land is the land of the free? 
That here peace and plenty do reign ? 
That 'gainst us war's waves surge in vain? 

O, how can we thanksgivings bring 

To the throne of the Heavenly King, 

When the kings of this world 

Have red banners unfurled, 

And deluged the earth with the life-blood of men — 

And women and children, again and again ? 

No! not thanks to-day do we bring 
To the throne of the Heavenly King 
That our own land is happy and free: 
Not thanks, but a passionate plea 
For justice 'gainst them who oppress, 



[i56] 

For succor to them in distress; 

For the dawn of a day 

Whose sun rolls away 

The black clouds of war 

And men battle no more; 

But, hand in hand, work out a righteous plan — 

Glad dream of all the ages — the Brotherhood of Man! 



[i57l 
THE MARCH OF THE HOURS 

^^^he march, unceasing, of the flying hours 

■ J Brings to its close another earthly year. 

^^^ Backward along Time's hoary track 

The beacon lights grow dim; 

And down the vista of the year to be 

The signals of Futurity are set. 

What of the path whose devious way they mark? 
Will it resound with tread of lightsome feet? 
With peals of laughter, shouts of joy? 
Or echo with the sombre tramp of leaden limbs, 
Numb with the cares and sorrows of the world? — 
With songs whose only music is a dirge? 

Will this New Year bring surcease from the strife 
Which rends the very earth and steeps in misery the Race? 
Will brutal-visaged War, by Peace enchained, 
Be thrust back to that Hell from whence he came? 

O, for the speedy coming of the Dawn 
That ushers in the brotherhood of man! 
O Blessed Day! whose sun shall shine upon 
A world redeemed from bitterness and greed: 
Where men's sole gospel shall be peace and love, 
And human sympathy shall reign supreme! 



[158] 
THE SIXTH SENSE 

^^^e^here are senses five which God hath given 
M JTo man for earthly weal or woe, — 
^^^But there's another sense whose blessedness e'en 
All the rest combined cannot bestow! 

It is that subtle, undefined sense, — 

A thing ethereal and not born of earth — 

Some souls have found in it Life's recompense — 

Souls cursed with toil and suffering from birth. 

Stranger meets stranger: — they clasp hands — 

They look into each other's answering eyes, 

And know they've met before, in other lands, 

Yet with that knowledge comes no feeling of surprise. 

In other lands — perhaps beyond this little life of ours, — 
They've walked in close communion sweet, 
Among Elysian fields and deathless flowers — 
Those Border-lands where Time and long Eternities do 
meet. 

And thou, O soul, dear counterpart of mine! 
Didst walk with me in Lands beyond the Sun, — 
And then we lost each other in the mists of Time; 
But now we meet again in this fair world, our weary wan- 
derings done. 




[i59l 
HOW I DISCOVERED "LITTLE RHODY!" 

ou know 'tis said that dear old Roger — 
Protestant firm, and agile dodger 
Of Puritanic persecution — 
Won all the Natives with his elocution 
The day he sailed up Narragansett Bay. 

"What Cheer! What Cheer!" the savage chorus cried, 

Whereat the noble Roger sighed — 
"This surely is the hand of Providence ! 

For here I am a man of consequence: 
I'd rather with these painted red men sit 

And eat the juicy clam from steaming pit, 
Than eat forever and a day, 

Cold pork and beans on Massachusetts Bay — 
I guess I'll stay!" 

All this the story-books do show; 

And now I'll strike an awful blow 
At those historians old and slow — 

For I'm iconoclastic you must know. 
I'm going to raise a dreadful fuss 

And get those fellows in a muss; 
And you can safely to me toady, 

For / discovered "Little Rhody!"— 
It happened thus: 



[i6o] 

'Twas on a Sabbath morn in May — 

In fact 'twas Decoration Day — 
The train was headed Boston way, 

When suddenly there came a bump 
As if my car had struck a stump: 

" 'Tis Providence!" the porter cries, 
And straight I oped my sleepy eyes; — 

Sat up in bed in mild surprise. 

"So this is Providence?" I said: 

"It is," quoth he, "an' awful dead!" 

Alas! Alack! It was too true — 
The morning sun, in sky so blue, 

Looked down 

Upon a sleepy town . 

Successors to good Roger lay 

In slumber deep that morn in May. 

The hour had not yet struck for prayer, 
No sound of church bells in the air, 

But there are those who firm declare 
That praying is a long-lost art 

In "Little Rhody's" quiet mart! 

And now I tramp me up and down 
To find conveyance out of town: 

Impatiently I stand and wait — 
Like all things here, the car is late! 



[i6i] 

it last it turns Weybosset with a crash, 
And then up Washington we dash; 

rhrough Elmwood's shady lanes we go, 
Into the country, sure but slow. 

fhe hills are dressed in living green, 

And, now and then, the silvery sheen 
)f quiet waters sparkling in the sun — 

A dazzling tribute to the day begun, 
rhe blue bird calls from out the bush, 

And then the song and sudden rush 
)f robin red-breast on the wing — 

Ah! how they touch my heart and bring 
de back those boyhood hours 

'Midst "Little Rhody's" trees and flowers! 

lere waves the dandelion still; 

Horse-chestnuts bloom upon the hill 
Vith butter-cups and daisies fair; 

There's scent of violets in the air, 
^nd clover perfume everywhere — 

All verdant Nature's in a thrill, 
^nd sentient life bends to her will. 

)n through the quiet villages we pass, 
Where little groups now wend the way 



[162] 

To worship on this sacred day 

And pay, 
With bowed and reverent head, 

Their tribute to the Nation's dead. 
* * * * * 

And now I stand within the door 

Of the old homestead, where of yore 
The loved ones gathered round the board, 

And Time flew swift, and sweet accord 
Reigned here supreme in childhood hours. 

Ah me! They never will come back: 
They've sped away upon life's track 

That leads from this old world of Time 
Into Eternity sublime. 

And faces once so radiant here! — 
At thought of them, the bitter tear 

Wells up unbidden to my eyes, — 
I send a prayer into the skies 

And lo! a benediction, sweet, 
Falls at my very feet. 

"And what hast thou discovered, pray?" 
I hear some doubting Thomas say. 

"Why only this" I make reply; — 
"Of all the lands beneath the sky, 



[i6 3 ] 

From Maine to California great, 

There's none can touch my Native State! 
A little State of big renown — 

The State of Burnside, Green and Brown, 
And Williams, — crowned with Freedom's crown!" 

Ah, "Little Rhody" may be slow — 
But then, its home, sweet home, 

You know! 



[i6 4 ] 
FAILURE 

now oft in life we fail! 
The sails we set to some auspicious gale, 
Only to find our ship at last 
On treacherous shoals, aground and fast. 

How oft we labor, with a Titan's might, 

On plans conceived through many a weary night; 

Build, with incessant toil, a structure fair, 
Only to see it vanish into air. 

How oft we battle till the fight seems won, 

Only to see, when day is done, 
The night-clouds lower and the stars look down 

On fields with dead hopes thickly strewn. 

Yet, from our failures must we ever rise 
With grim determination in our eyes, 

And set the sails again and labor on 

And battle till the shades of night are gone — 

Full sure that vict 'ry cometh with the dawn! 



Here End the Songs of Nature, Love and Life, 
Written by John Wood Northup, Published by 
Paul Elder and Company, and Seen Through 
Their Tomoye Press by Herman A. Funke, in the 
City of San Francisco During the Month of 
December, Nineteen Hundred and Sixteen 



iiJi'imE.n? Y 0F CONGRESS 



018 348 345 6 



- . 






- 

! 






';• 



□ ■ 



; 
, . ■ 



' 



! 









v 






